Just The Two Of Us
by nimblnymph
Summary: It's a little tricky to explain. To sum it up, it's about the SanzoXGoku, HakkaiXGojyo pairings. NOT SEXY STUFF! Chapter 22 is Gojyo. To clarify: NOT YAOI! NOT SHONENAI! Just friendly stuff.
1. I'm Scared

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is going to be just a collection of one-shots focusing on the two most common pairings. But, it's going to be post-Gaiden, pre-Gensomaden. A couple of quick notes about the sets:

With SanzoXGoku stories, it's really going to focus a lot on Goku being reintroduced to society. I was reading a sociology report on wild children (kids abandoned/abused and left to fend for themselves in the wild...it's actually really interesting), and it kind of gave me the idea. If you've read Eternal Sunshine, it's going to be written in a similar style as that, with each story becoming more and more solid (so to speak).

With the GojyoXHakkai stories, I'm going to take turns trying to write from their POV. It'll be somethng new for me...and I really like doing something different! Their story is going to really hit on the mutual emotional scars they share...and how they help each other.

Okay, about the story here real quick. It's called I'm Scared, and it's written as a flashback to just after Sanzo freeing Goku. Um...that's all! And that is it for the insanely long AN!

* * *

Goku dropped his bag just inside the door and looked around his small room. His room. It was all his. The four of them were stopping for the evening and the inn was completely dead and more than willing to charge for four separate rooms. The others, especially Sanzo, were happy for the separate rooms. He was okay with it, too...he guessed. Unlike the others, he didn't like being alone at night. It made him think about...it made him remember that prison. Goku rubbed the cuffs over his wrist, the image swimming a little so that he saw those chains again.

He reached into his jeans pocket instinctively and pulled out his most cherished possession...and little black stone with grey veins running through it, flat and polished so smoothly it shone. There was a little indentation that had been rubbed down so much his thumb fit there perfectly. It had been a gift from Sanzo, which is why he still carried it with him. Goku smiled, thinking back to that day...

* * *

This was a Town. It had little Streets and big Buildings. And a Fence to keep everyone in. Everyone being kept in by the Fence were now staring out windows at them. It was scary! Goku clung to Sanzo's robe, trying not to let his claws break the fabric. He'd already ripped open the sleeve on accident. And Sanzo had been mad. Sanzo had hit him with that fan again. His head really hurt, but he wasn't leaving. Nope, not leaving at all! Sanzo was his sun. And now that he found him again, he never wanted to be in the dark again!

The people started making noise. Not a loud noise, but they were talking. It was...a Whisper. Yes, a Whisper! And that word, Whisper, made him feel even more nervous. Whispers...something about them that wasn't nice. Little image flashes, there and gone again, memory fragments too confused and fast to make sense of. Something bad...

"Hey, ease up on the robe. It's dirty enough without your grubby fingerprints on it."

Goku looked up and saw those eyes staring at him. Violet, like when the sun is leaving the sky...always coming and going. Not this time! This time, Sanzo wasn't going anywhere without him. He slowly let go of the robe, fingers shaking. All those eyes were staring at him. He stared at his clawed hands and then at Sanzo's, just barely peeking out from under the sleeve of his robe. They were...different. Was that why they were staring, because he was different?

They went into a Building that was bigger than the others, with lots of Windows. And that smell...what was that? He sniffed the air, tuned out completely as Sanzo and a fat man were talking about rooms and something called 'dollars'. He followed the smell that was making his stomach hurt. He knew this pain, it was familiar...a name, what was it called? What was this churning, gurgling feeling called...

Hunger. Goku was Hungry. He remembered! And he was HUNGRY! He pushed through the door into a large empty room with lots of weird objects in his way. They were Tables and Chairs. Ignoring the Tables and Chairs, he went through another door, jumping when it swung back to hit him. It was loud in here, so much noise, so many people running around! And fire..fire here, fire there. The smell was coming from the things on the fire. Pans. This was a Kitchen. Again, bits and pieces of memory came back, all of them happy and involving the Hunger going away in here. Slowly, he began to put names with the smells invading his nose. Pepper, garlic, beef, shrimp. That was orange, and that was cinnamon. The Hunger made his stomach hurt so badly he doubled over,clutching it.

"Why, whatever is the matter?" someone asked. Small hands with rounded claws (nails, he corrected, humans had nails) came into view, a long brown braid of hair streaked with silver swinging in front of him.

Goku looked up and saw a woman with big brown eyes...and she looked scared. Was she scared of him? He hoped not! He could tell she was really nice, and he didn't want to scare away someone nice. "Don't be scared of me," he said quietly.

The woman laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. "Scared of you? Hardly! My youngest is only ten and he's a lot bigger than you. I was just wondering why you looked so sick. Are your parents around?"

"No parents." No memory flashes either when the word came up. Did he even have parents? He decided to ask Sanzo. Sanzo would know!

She smiled and it was friendly. The other people were staring at them. Staring at _him_. "Well, maybe I can help you. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Hungry...very Hungry."

Laughing, she made a funny motion with one finger. "Come with me. We can take care of that real easy. What's your name?"

"Son Goku. What's yours?" He sat down on the Stool at the funny stone Table and watched her cut vegetables. The orange ones were carrots. The green bushy ones were broccoli. That ugly grey one was a mushroom.

"You can call me Saeko," she said, sliding the vegetables into a Pan. Goku jumped when she lit a fire that almost reached the top of the Kitchen. "Whoops! A little too much oil. Do you have a favorite food, Goku?"

"Dunno. What's that?" He pointed to the tray of cut up raw meat on sticks.

Saeko looked over and laughed. "Those are for pot stickers."

"Pot stickers? Are they good?"

"One of my favorites."

"Can I have one?"

She smiled and closed one eye quickly. A Wink. "Those are for dinner. You can help serve it, if you'd like. Earn your keep around here."

Goku didn't know what she meant by 'earn your keep', but she was very nice and he liked her smile. "Okay. Do I get food?"

"Of course! And a bed, but first we need to feed you and get you cleaned up a bit." She put some food in front of him.

Goku breathed in the smell and his stomach ached even more. He picked up the vegetables and shoveled them into his mouth as fast as possible, barely taking the time to chew, ignoring the fact that now his hands hurt. The food was very hot and gone in a matter of seconds. And he was still Hungry. "More! Do you have more?"

Saeko's eyes blinked and she stared at him, along with the rest of the people. Goku looked around and tried to shrink down away from those looks. Did he do something wrong? Saeko quickly smiled again and gave him more food, which he again picked up and ate as fast as possible, this time tasting it. So many flavors...so many different tastes! This was as good as Sanzo finding him!

"When was the last time you ate a meal?" she asked, motioning for everyone to go back to cutting things.

Goku wiped his mouth on his hand and said, "Dunno, but this is really good. It makes my stomach happy!" he looked sadly at his empty plate.

Saeko laughed and was quick to fill it back up. "This will be it for now. After you're done, let's get you washed and into some clean clothing. Then, I'll show you what needs to be done, okay?"

"Okay!" Goku finished his food again. He was so busy with his food that he didn't see Saeko talk to another woman quickly. The other woman ran out the back door. Licking his lips, he said, "I'm still Hungry." He was kind of hoping she might...

"Well, you'll have more later. Come with me, Goku." She came around the Table, holding out her hand.

Goku stood up and took her hand, being careful of his claws. He'd scratched Sanzo on the way down the Mountain, and Sanzo hadn't been happy about it. Saeko was about to lead him out the door of the Kitchen when it swung inward, hitting the wall very hard. Goku jumped, hand tightening around hers. She hissed and tried to pry his fingers off.

Sanzo stood in the doorway, and he looked VERY Angry! "I turn my back for five seconds, and you're already getting into trouble! Get over here!"

"But...you're gonna hit me," Goku whimpered. Saeko was making funny noises and pulling to get her hand away.

"And you're hurting her. Let go, Goku."

Looking over, Goku saw thin little trails of blood squeezing out from between his fingers. His claws...he'd hurt Saeko! "I'm sorry! I didn't want to hurt you! I'm sorry!" He let go, staring at the dark stuff covering his hands. Just like that bird...

"It's fine...an accident," she said firmly, making a face (a Wince) and wrapping her hand in her apron. "Doc Sahen is gonna be here soon anyway."

"He should be here now. I sent someone over there about twenty minutes ago," Sanzo said. He was giving Goku that Angry look again, but at least he didn't hit him. Goku stood a little behind Sanzo, unsure what to do. He liked Saeko. She gave him food and seemed really nice. But he'd just hurt her, and he could tell it was pretty bad. Sanzo didn't get hurt so easily. And something about Sanzo...

"Is this boy yours?" Saeko asked as another woman came up with a long piece of cloth and began wrapping it around her hand quickly. Saeko's apron was all blotchy red now.

"I guess. It's not like I was given much choice in the matter."

"Well, you need to take better care of him! Gods, look at him! He's completely malnourished, hasn't had a bath in what seems like years. And it's very obvious you beat him judging by that frightened look on his face. As soon as Doc gets here and confirms that for me, by law he'll be taken away from you."

"Listen, lady, you don't know a damn thing about the situation," Sanzo said. Goku coward behind him at the suddenly scary tone to his voice. "I just found the runt about four hours ago. I've been walking all fucking day with him babbling on about useless shit, stepping on my heels, and being a general pain in the ass. I called the doctor to come examine him, and I HAD been planning on getting him some food as well as a bath. So quit your bitching, I didn't do this to the kid!"

Saeko's eyes got Angry now, too. Goku grabbed a hold of Sanzo's robe and held on tightly. "Then where the hell have you been while I've been taking care of him, huh? Off whoring around, perhaps?"

The woman next to Saeko whispered something and pointed at Sanzo. Saeko looked, Gasped, and her eyes went wide. "Oh...I'm so sorry, Master Sanzo! I...I didn't realize..."

"Save it, I'm not in the mood to hear you grovel. Just get some hot water up to room two-oh-one. You," Sanzo turned sharply on Goku. "You stay with me, in my sight, until I say you can leave, got it?"

"Yeah," Goku said softly. Sanzo was really, really Angry with him. He looked down at his bare feet dismally. He didn't mean to make Sanzo Angry.

Sanzo sighed and put a hand on Goku's shoulder. "You are such a fucking pain in the ass. Come on." He turned and left the Kitchen, holding the door and looking back over his shoulder.

Goku was quick to run up right behind him. They went up to the next level of the Building and Sanzo pulled something from inside his robe. It was tiny and had little teeth on it. "What's that?"

"A key. It opens locks. See?" Sanzo put it into a very tiny crack in the door, and turned it. There was a clicking noise (like those beetles that used to come in the Spring, he thought) and the door pushed open.

They were in another room that was almost as small as his Prison. The floors were wood, there was another Table with Chairs, and two Windows looking out onto the Street. Goku ran to one and went to lean out...THUD! What...why couldn't he...but he remembered leaning out a Window without a barrier! Was this magic?

"There's glass there, idiot. If you run into it hard enough, you'll break it." Sanzo came over and knocked against this new thing. This Glass, it made a sharp sound, one he'd never heard before. And the knock made the whole Glass shudder and move so he could see it.

"What's it do?" Goku asked, touching it hesitantly. It was cold! But, he could feel it, even if he couldn't see it very well!

"It keeps things outside. Things like cold air and thieves."

He didn't know what 'thieves' were, but he knew a lot about cold air! He didn't like it. It always came in winter and winter was so scary, so very scary..."I like Glass," he decided.

Sanzo made a noise that sounded like a Grunt, but wasn't quite. "Whatever." He took his robe off and made it into a neat little square, setting it on one of the long blocks covered in cloth and fluffy cloud-things. He rolled up the thing that was around his shoulders and stuck that in his belt, along with his gun. Goku sat on the floor and watched, legs folded up with his feet pressed together. Sanzo ignored him, pulling out that small paper box he carried. Cigarettes, he'd been told. This was Sanzo's second cigarette today.

"Sanzo?" Goku asked hesitantly, biting his lower lip.

He glanced over, violet eyes blank. A soft click, and then fire lit the cigarette in his mouth. "What?" he asked, smoke coming out with the word. He began pulling off the black leather covering his arms, putting those next to the robe. The shirt followed soon after. Everything else stayed on. Sanzo sat down on the long block (a Bed...it was a Bed) and waited.

"Do cigarettes taste good?" They had to if Sanzo went back for seconds!

"No, they don't."

Goku frowned. That wasn't the answer he was expecting. "Then why do you-,"

"They're good for stress relief. If I don't smoke, I get angry. If I get angry, someone ends up hurt or bleeding. And since you're the only person here right now..." The threat was never finished. It didn't have to be. Goku swallowed heavily. He'd make sure Sanzo was NEVER without a cigarette! There was the sound of metal against metal as Sanzo pulled his gun out again, emptying little metal pieces onto the Bed.

Crawling closer, Goku stared at them. They were long and narrow with little points at the end. He reached out to poke one.

WHACK!

Goku scowled and drew his hand back, rubbing it where Sanzo had slapped him. "Why'd you do that?"

"Bullets are not for kids. Neither are guns. I don't want you touching either one." Sanzo dug around in the bag he had been carrying until he found a small bottle and a dirty cloth. Goku watched as he poured some stuff onto the cloth and began rubbing the gun with it.

"What's that?" he asked, sitting closer against Sanzo's leg.

"Cleaning oil."

"What's it do?"

"It cleans the gun. Now go away."

Goku stood up and looked around the small room. There was another Bed and the Table. "Where do you want me to go?"

"To hell." He said it so quietly Goku almost didn't hear it.

"Huh?"

Sanzo sighed again, closing his eyes. His jaw was very tight. He was Annoyed. A memory flash of that same look crossed his mind, very familiar. Except...except it wasn't this Sanzo. It was another one, the same but different. "Just go lie down on your bed until they get here with the doctor and a bath. And stop asking me questions."

"Okay." Goku went over to the Bed and flopped down. His eyes went wide in shock. It was soft...so soft! Not like the rocks he'd slept on for ages and ages. This Bed was like sleeping on clouds! He rolled around on it, trying to see if it was soft all over. It was! And this thing, the one that was on top of the bed...if he hugged it, it was squishy and softer. "Mm...it's fluffy, Sanzo! Didja feel it?"

There was that little noise again, the one that was a Grunt but wasn't. And...a twitch of lips. "For what they charged me for this room, it better be the softest damn pillow int the world."

A Pillow! That's what it was called! But it wasn't the softest thing in the world. Sitting up and still hugging his Pillow, Goku said, "It's not the softest thing in the world. Know what is? Your hair. It's soft and it looks like sunshine!"

Sanzo raised an eyebrow and started putting the bullets back in the gun. "You're a creepy little bastard. You know that, right?"

"What's that mean?"

"It means you're acting like an idiot and you should stop it."

Still not sure what he meant (other than he should stop doing what he was doing), Goku looked up when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Sanzo stood up, tucking the gun back in his belt.

Saeko came in with four other women, two who were carrying a large wooden object. It was circular and had a black lining in it. The other two carried four smaller objects (similar to the large one) with steam coming from it. "Sorry it too so long, Master Sanzo. This was the largest tub we could find on such short notice."

"Whatever. Put it over there. Sanzo motioned next to the fire burning in the room.

"I also brought these up for Goku. These belong to my youngest boy, but he doesn't wear them often." She put a red shirt and brown pants on the Table, with black foot shaped things (like what Sanzo wore) underneath. And there were strange pants with no legs to them. Goku got up and poked at the stuff curiously, sniffing at them. They smelled good, but not like food-good. They smelled like something clean and pretty. Goku sniffed at himself. He didn't smell like that.

The women carrying the small objects dumped the steaming water into the bigger thing (the Tub, that's what Saeko had called it) before bowing and leaving the room. Saeko put fluffy pieces of cloth on a Chair before bowing as well. "If you need anything else, Master Sanzo, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Just send the doctor up when he gets here." Sanzo waited until the door had closed after Saeko to walk over and stare at the tub. He glanced over at Goku. Goku shrank away from that look. Uh-oh...he remembered seeing that look before. It usually meant something unpleasant was going to happen. "Well, are you going to take those rags off or am I going to do it for you?"

It took Goku a second to catch on. "My cloths?" Sanzo wanted him to take his cloths off. But..."Why do I need to take them off?" He'd worn them since he could remember. They were like his skin. He hugged his arms around himself. He didn't wanna take his cloths off.

Sanzo threw the last little bit of his cigarette into the fire. "This is the last time I'm going to ask you. Take your damn clothing off."

Shivering, Goku pulled the shirt over his head, staring at the stained and battered garment. He handed it to Sanzo, yelping when he threw it into the fire. "Hey! That was mine!"

"Please. I probably caught a disease just from touching it. Pants, too."

"But...but..."

The look was enough. Fighting not to cry, Goku took his pants off and closed his eyes so he wouldn't see Sanzo through them into the fire as well. He felt so naked...okay, so he WAS naked. But it wasn't just having naked skin. Those clothes were all he'd had. Now he didn't have anything.

"Did you like being in that prison?"

Goku's eyes opened at the question. Sanzo was leaning against the tub, arms folded over his bare chest. "Huh?"

"Did you like being in that prison?" he repeated. He wasn't Angry...the question was almost nice.

Shaking his head, Goku stared down at his bare feet, his naked legs.

"Those clothes were beyond repair or cleaning. They were what you wore in captivity. I'd think you'd be glad to get rid of something like that."

Goku felt burning in his eyes. Tears fell shortly after. "That was all I had."

"It was. But now you have something else to replace them. Change is part of life. If you don't change, you don't grow."

He sort of understood. His old stuff was kinda like the chains. They held him back. The new clothes were for being free in. Looking over at the table, he decided the red shirt was pretty. And that it wouldn't be so bad to change a bit. "Can I wear them now?"

Sanzo snorted. "Are you fucking kidding? Wash first, then get changed."

Goku looked at the tub Sanzo was pointing at. "You mean you want me to get in there? What if I drown?" There had been some bad rain once and it had flooded his Prison. It had almost covered his head. He'd been so scared then.

"It's not that deep. Stop being such a baby." Sanzo pushed away from the tub. He stood in front of Goku expectantly. "Well?"

"But I don't remember...I don't know..."

Sighing, Sanzo rubbed his eyes. "I must have really fucked up in a past life to deserve this," he muttered. Then, lowering his hand, he said, "I'm doing this once, and only once. You better pay close attention because if you don't, you're screwed the next time you take a bath. Get in."

Goku got into the water, eyes closed tight. The flood water had been cold, so cold...His eyes opened when his toes touched the bottom. This water was warm! And it felt good, too! He got in the rest of the way and sat down. Sitting , it only came to his chest. That wasn't so high.

Sanzo grabbed a bottle and opened it, and squeezed a thick liquid into a wet cloth. He had another cigarette in his mouth. Cigarettes smelled funny, like that forest fire he saw below the Mountain. He didn't really like it much, but he wasn't going to tell Sanzo that."Get in the middle of the tub."

"Okay." Goku kneeled where he was told, watching Sanzo warily as he grabbed one of Goku's wrists. He immediately thought of the chains. But Sanzo wouldn't do that. He knew he wouldn't. "What's that?"

"It's soap. It kills germs."

"Why do you wanna kill germs? And what are germs anyway?"

Growling, Sanzo said sternly, "Shut up or I seriously might kill you. All you need to know is that this is soap. And this is a wash cloth. You get the wash cloth wet, put soap on it and then scrub yourself all over, like this." He suited action to words, starting on Goku's arms.

"Ow! That hurts!"

"Good." Goku watched as the water began to turn colors, going from clear to yellowish to brown. Was that stuff the germs? Sanzo wasn't happy at all about this, but he didn't stop until he got to Goku's waist. "Here, you take over. I'm not going any lower than that. Scrub everything, between your toes, your knees. Everything."

Goku took the wash cloth and soap and finished what Sanzo had started. Sanzo meanwhile grabbed one of the fluffy clothes from the table and wiped his arms off on it. "I swear, you're worse than a dog."

"Why?" Goku finished with his toes and stood up.

"Sit your ass back down! Your hair is nastier than your body."

He quickly sat down. Sanzo came back over with another bottle of different soap, opening it up. Goku barely had time for a breath before he was shoved under the water. He struggled, kicking and splashing. Sanzo was trying to drown him! He screamed, water filling his mouth. And was pulled back up quickly, coughing and trying to breath. "You...cough, cough...were drownin' me!"

"Your were barely under for more than four seconds," Sanzo snarled, eyes glinting in the fire light. "You have to get your hair wet before putting your shampoo in. And this has to come off." He started to reach for the golden crown. Two things happened.

One, Goku covered his head. For some reason he knew it was bad for that to come off. He didn't know how he knew, but something bad would happen if Sanzo did.

Two, Sanzo's hand stopped halfway there, eyes narrowing. "Where did this come from?" he asked.

"I dunno! I've always had it."

Sanzo made an odd noise and left the crown alone. "This is shampoo. It's different from soap. Soap is for your body and shampoo is for your hair." He put some into his hands, rubbing it around until big foamy bubbles appeared.

"Hey, neat!" Goku grinned when Sanzo started rubbing those bubbles into his hair. "Can I have something to eat now?"

"Later. I want to get this done and over with. Keep your eyes closed." He scrubbed through all of Goku's hair, jaw set tightly in place. Why wasn't he having fun? That foamy shampoo looked like it would be really great to play with! This time when Sanzo shoved him under the water, he was ready for it and took a deep breath, holding it. He was under for a lot longer than before and when he was pulled up, he wiped hard at his eyes. They hurt! They were stinging and burning and he couldn't get it to stop! "Ow! Owowowow! SANZOOO!"

"Hold still, you little shit," Sanzo said over his shouting. A moment later, his eyes were being wiped clean. He blinked a couple times and looked up at Sanzo, who was holding that fluffy cloth. "Shampoo hurts if you get it in your eyes. That's why I told you to shut them."

"It REALLY hurt!"

"You should have listened to me. Here, wrap this around yourself and get out."

Goku took the fluffy cloth and this time did exactly as he was told. He was dripping water everywhere still as he got out of the tub, grabbing it to keep from falling. "Sanzo?"

Sanzo's back stiffened visibly. He was beginning to put his shirt back on. "Not another word."

"But, Sanzo!" He really wanted to say this! He remembered he was supposed to say it when someone did something nice.

"What!"

Cringing at the shouted question, Goku looked at the floor, curling his toes under. "Thank you."

The Angry tension in the air eased gradually. Sanzo finished dressing again and muttered, "Get dressed."

* * *

Sanzo glanced up from his paper as Dr. Sahen came back down the stairs, a confused look on his face. The doctor came over to him and took a seat without being offered. Out of habit, Sanzo shifted position so that he could not only see the kitchen door but the man as well. Keeping all possible areas of attack in sight. "So?" he asked, folding his paper back up.

"He's...fine. he says he hasn't eaten in a long time, but he shows no sign of it other than poor muscle developement," Sahen answered. "I'd say he's about fifteen years old physically-,"

"Physically?" He frowned. Had he been right then about...

"Goku has no real memories," Sahen began slowly. "Nothing about his parents or his past, except for random pieces that come and go."

"He told you this?"

"He did. The only thing he seems to remember clearly is waking up on that Mountain and hearing men shouting. He said there were a lot of men shouting and some falling down and not getting up."

Sanzo nodded. A battle. Goku had witnessed a battle. "The last documented battle here was almost five hundred years ago."

"And there hasn't been anything as large as he was describing since. but...how is that possible? I mean, he's clearly not a youkai...but he can't be human either!"

Releasing the smoke from his lungs slowly, Sanzo picked the paper back up and began to read the editorial again as he spoke. Dividing his attention between several subjects had become necessary over the years. "There's an ancient story about a child born from the earth. He supposedly has incredible strength and speed, and can live for long periods of time. He was neither youkai or human or god. No one knows exactly what he is."

"And you believe this boy is one and the same?"

Flicking ash away, he shrugged. "Someone put a hard-core power limiter on him. It's obvious from that alone something isn't natural about him. How else would you explain it?"

Sahen sighed, shoulders slumping. "I can't. That's just it. For so long, we believed that mountain to be haunted by spirits that howled during the winter months. And if Son Goku were locked away up there..." The man shivered. "So, what do you intend to do with him?"

That was the million dollar question. There was no doubt in his mind he was meant to find Goku on that mountain top. Why else take a road that was supposedly haunted? And that voice...even now he could hear it, though it wasn't screaming as loudly as it had been before. He'd been hearing it for years, usually just a quiet presence he could push out when he wanted to. But today, it had been screaming so loudly he could barely see straight. So, now that he had him, what was he to do with him? No way in hell the brat was being trained as a monk! And he certainly didn't want the kid as a servant. He had one already...some orphan kid they'd assigned to him. Damn it, what WAS that kid's name again? Oh, well. Didn't matter right now. Right now, he had to figure out what to do with Son Goku.

And speaking of him...Goku came running down the stairs, cleaner than he had been and fully dressed. The pants were a little big, but the shoes and shirt fit just fine. "Hey, Sanzo, Doc Sahen says I'm good! Can I have something to eat now?"

Sanzo felt the irritation rise, but didn't lash out quite yet. Goku sat in a chair, putting his head on the table. "Doc?"

"Huh? Oh, he's fine! No diseases, a slight dandruff problem, but that's it." Dr. Sahen stood and stretched. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I have to see a few other people today."

"Bye!" Goku said brightly. Sanzo didn't look up from his paper. And he tried his hardest to ignore the brat. "Sanzo?" Ignore him...maybe if he didn't answer, he would go away. "Sanzo? Sanzo? Sanzo!"

"For the love of God, what!" Ugh...the kid was so ABNOXIOUS!

"I'm really hungry!" Those big, stupid golden eyes were full of pleading. And tears. Like he was about to cry if he didn't get food. He wanted to beat that stupid look off his face. He wanted to smack him in the head, tell him to eat himself and then go to bed. But he didn't...the longer he stared into those eyes, the more the rage left him. Damn.

Sighing, he flicked the newspaper closed and signaled the waitress over. "Fine, eat. It'll keep you quiet."

"Okay...um...Sanzo?"

"God, what now?" That headache was coming back again, this time a sharp stabbing pain behind his eyes. And it had everything to do with the stupid looking ape-boy in front of him. This was the definition of the Christian Hell for sure! He must have been a mass murdering-pyscho-rapist who practiced cannabalism in his past life.

"I...I dunno what to get." Goku looked at the menu, eyes scanning the first page only.

Sanzo frowned when he noticed his eyes moving in the wrong direction for reading. So that was the problem. Goku couldn't read. Sighing, he opened his menu, adjusted his reading glasses and went down the list. "Chicken, beef or shrimp?"

"All of it!"

"I refuse to order all of it. Pick one."

Goku thought about it for a good five minutes, tongue sticking out of his mouth. "Umm, chicken! No, wait-,"

He cut the boy off right there. "You said chicken, we're getting chicken." Closing the menu, he caught the waitress' attention (not very hard as she was staring right at him...in fact, most of the waitresses were as well. Women!) and motioned her over. She came quickly enough, pen ready to write down their order. "Two orders of chicken foo yong, three egg rolls and two orders of fried rice."

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Keep the beer coming, and I don't want to see the bottom of my mug until we get the bill."

She nodded, smiled and started to walk away.

Goku frowned and gave him angry eyes. "Hey, is that all your getting? What am I supposed to eat?"

Blinking, he pulled out his cigarettes. Nicotine...that'll help the headache. "What do you mean? That's more than enough food for two people."

"Yeah...but I'm REALLY HUNGRY!"

Sighing, Sanzo called after the waitress, "Add some vegetable Lo Mein to that as well."

She nodded without turning back.

Sanzo lit the cigarette, letting the cool flow of nicotine calm his nerves down. A cigarette was almost as good as that first cup of coffee in the morning. And he had a feeling he was going to need plenty more smokes (as well as more alcohol) to keep from murdering someone tonight. And that someone just happened to be sitting across from him, swinging his legs and making up a song about food. How the hell did this happen to him? Of all the people in the world, it was him who got stuck playing wet nurse to some memory deprived primate! Someone in the heavens had a really twisted sense of humor.

* * *

Goku was still so Hungry! They'd had to order more food at dinner, and more and more, and it still didn't make him un-Hungry. But Sanzo had told him that was it for today. He'd been very mad at the waitress (something about four hundred dollars for food?) and even more so at Goku. They were now in the room again, Sanzo lying down on his Bed with the paper he was reading still, Goku sitting on his Bed, hugging his Pillow tightly. It was really dark outside the room. Not so dark inside. The big fire had gone out and Sanzo didn't rekindle it, saying it was hot enough in the room. There was only the one Candle by Sanzo's Bed, the one that made his hair glow like the sunshine in Summer. The sun...

He looked over as Sanzo sighed, pulling the Glass from in front of his eyes away and setting it on the little Table with the Candle. The paper he threw on the floor next to his Bed. He put the gun on the little Table along with his cigarettes and then stretched out, pulling the Blankets up over himself. "Lights out. Lay down and go to sleep." Taking a deep breath, he blew the little fire out.

And it was dark. So dark, Goku couldn't see his hand in front of his face. Nothing, not even a bug to break the silence. The night was closing in all around him, getting smaller and smaller, more compressed. He closed his eyes, biting his lower lip to keep from crying out loud. He wasn't in the Prison...he wasn't chained to the rocks...Sanzo had freed him...Sanzo...He couldn't even see Sanzo! What if the night ate him up, like it did all the noises and the sunlight? What if Sanzo disappeared and never came back? He didn't want to be alone again, not ever! The darkness took the light away...and Sanzo was his sun...which meant the darkness was going to take Sanzo away! He was alone, alone...so alone! Goku buried his face in his Pillow and began to cry. "Don't go, don't go, don't go..."

"Will you shut the hell up? I'm right here!"

Sanzo? Goku looked up and saw a dark shape in front of him. He could just make out the line of shoulders, the arms, hands balled into fists. "S-Sanzo?" he sniffled.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

"I'm scared."

"Of what, the dark?"

"No...and yes." What was he scared of? The night scared him because it hid Sanzo from him. And he didn't want to be alone.

"Everyone's afraid of something. Anyone who isn't is a fool." Again, he didn't sound Angry...but he wasn't happy either.

Goku smothered his face into his Pillow again and said, "But I can't sleep cuz I'm scared."

A soft, "Hmph," a little movement and then the chink of a lighter. In the dull glow of the flame, Sanzo held something out to Goku in his hand. "Here. This is a worry stone. You rub it when you get scared and it makes you feel better."

Goku stared at the flat rock that was shiny and smooth. It was black with grey stripes through it. Not a mark on the surface. "Is it magic?" he asked, not really believing the little rock would make the scared-ness go away.

"It's about as magical as horse shit." He tossed the stone to Goku, who caught it midair, still staring at it. "Now, go to bed or I'll shut your eyes permanently." The lighter was flipped closed, throwing the room into an even darker black than before.

This rock was supposed to make him feel better? Goku's eyes followed the dark outline of Sanzo as he went back across the room, muttering to himself. He did as he was told, pulling the blankets up over his head. And was scared when he didn't even hear Sanzo breathing. He began rubbing the stone with one thumb, eyes closed tightly. Just keep rubbing, just keep rubbing, just...keep...

* * *

Goku yelped, burying his face under the Pillow as the blankets were whipped off him. The rush of cold air was really awful. "What's goin' on?" he mumbled, blinking in the...the sunlight! He jumped from the Bed and ran to the Glass, peering out into a world awash with sunshine. It had worked! The stone had worked! "Hey, Sanzo, it's the sun! Look, Sanzo, look! And you know what? I wasn't scared!"

Sanzo threw the blankets back on the Bed and flicked the sleeves of his robe back in place. "What is it with you and the sun?"


	2. Gojyo

Yet another night spent doing the same old shit. Drinking and gambling with the same friends, usually winning all their cash except for the few hands I let them win just to keep them interested in losing more. The same women hitting on me. I already knew what they sounded like in the dark, what they felt like on cotton sheets with the hum of the ceiling fan blowing on our sweaty skin. I could tell you from the different moans which one was which. Nothing new there. Inevitably, one of the tarts would slip up and mention how incredible my hair and eyes are. Incredible...right. More like intolerable. Marks of a sin that I didn't commit. Memories I wish would die and stay buried. 'The sins of the father mark the son,' as the saying goes. I was proof of that. Luckily, this little town hidden away in a corner of the world that was just becoming noticed by the big city developers didn't know what crimson eyes and hair meant. Oh, sure, they knew it wasn't normal. But not that it would forever mark me as a halfbreed child, born from a human and youkai. Goddamn it, why did this shit always come up at the stupidest times?

I had been having such a good night up until ten minutes ago. I had a good amount of cash in hand, at least enough to cover rent on the shitty dump I called home, and groceries for the week. Ramen's good. Ramen's your best friend when you're broke as fuck. It was still summer in these parts, so the ground was parched so dry it was more like compacted sand, squeezed together so tightly not even a foot print could be seen in the dry dust. There had been storm clouds to the east when I went into the bar, dark and heavy with a late summer rain. By the time I was ready to go, it was a downpour, filling the night with silvery splashes. I smiled when I thought back to when I was kid. Everytime it rained, I had always hoped that maybe, just maybe, those tiny little drops would wash away the red of my hair. Stupid, I know, but when you're a child starved for a mother's love you think anything is possible. Needless to say, I learned very quickly that nothing would change this. Even if I dyed my hair, it was still red underneath. Always red, like the blood of my mother, warm against my cheek. If I closed my eyes, I could see it all again, just exploding from her chest along with a dull metalic point. Her crumbling to the ground, head landing on my knees. Her blood was everywhere, pooling on the ground, getting lost in her dull brown hair, staining her dress, my pants. Jien's hands...

God, I could still see his face, even after almost ten years. The shock and horror of it all playing in those eyes until...he'd been angry at me. I knew he blamed me for what he'd done. I blamed myself as well. If only I had just died that day...but I didn't. I was here, she was gone and Jien for all I know was dead now, too. Ironic, really, that the last remaining blood relative to my father was his halfbreed bastard child that everyone wished had died. The rain was positively pounding down, being greedily yanked into the deprived ground. It didn't do much to soften it, I thought as I walked home, long crimson strands falling into my line of sight. Crimson hair and eyes. Why the hell did it have to be something so goddamn obvious as crimson hair and eyes? Why were the children made to be marked as evil creatures? We were innocent of any taboos. Just the other day, I heard about some halfbreed baby being drowned in the river by the townspeople three over from us. The mother had been stoned to death, too. So goddamn pointless. As pointless as this rain right now. It didn't change the fact that it was hot as fuck, and it sure as hell wasn't helping with the humidity. If anything, the air was more heavy and clinging now than it had been at high noon. It made it difficult to breath evenly. Or maybe that was from the cigarettes? Didn't matter, really. I don't control the weather, and I sure as hell wasn't giving up my smokes. Nope, no way! Tried it once. Tong Pu begged me to go back on. Apparently, I'm not as charming without my cigarettes. Go figure?

As I continued on through the forest path to my house, pulling my damp shirt away from my skin, the rain started forming little standing pools on the ground, unable to break through the tightly packed soil and below where it was most needed. The hole in the bottom of my shoe was great for letting all the water in. Damn it all... nothing more disgusting that rain water trapped to slosh around in your shoe! I paused, shaking my foot out to try and get some of the moisture to leak back where it belonged. No such luck. Fuck, fuck FUCK! I don't know why this night was getting to me more than any of the others. Maybe it was the rain. Or the nasty-as-hell humidity. I don't know, but it suddenly made me remember another story I heard about some dude who downed a whole bottle of bleach. Must have hurt like hell... I thought about the small bottle of bleach under the kitchen sink, from where I'd bleached my hair out once. I looked shitty as a blonde. Hell, most blondes looked shitty as a blonde! Still, it wouldn't take that much...maybe a couple shots...

_Crack, crack..._

I froze, at the sound, listening. It was probably nothing. Just some furry forest critter trying to run between the rain drops. The forest was always full of odd noises. It's why I hated the outdoors. Tong Pu had wanted to go camping once...I believe I said that if his hot sister wasn't there, no way in hell! He'd been pissed (and very drunk) at the time. Now, THAT had been one helluva bar fight! Usually we were pretty good about taking it outside, but not that time. That time, Goshi, the barkeep, even ended up joining in and tossed us right through the goddamn door. Man, that had been a good night! I began to walk again, feet sloshing through the water. Rain was good and all, but this was fucking ridiculous. Almost a half inch of standing water on the ground, just sitting there. Not even a depression in the earth to- I stopped again, staring at my shoes. That wasn't mud making them all dark...

This...this wasn't all rain water. I could smell it and knew what it was even before I crouched lower, fingers brushing through it. That sweet metallic scent could only be one thing... "Blood." I only had to look a short distance ahead to find the source of the blood. At first, with the way it was positioned, I thought it was some dog that had been killed and left on the road. Some farmers, the ones who bred those fancy hunting hounds, usually shot the imperfect ones in the woods and used them for bait. They called it 'perfecting the species'. I doubt very much the dogs would agree with that. It wasn't until I got close enough to almost step on the shape that I realized two things.

One, it wasn't a dog, it was a man.

Two, I had almost stepped on his guts.

Holy fucking shit... The dude had been ripped to shreds! Pieces of intestine were stringing from under his body. Way too much blood to be healthy mingled with the rain to slide down the road. I saw a couple pieces I didn't recognize, and to be honest didn't really wanna recognize. He was practically naked, too, his jeans barely hanging in tattered shreds to his waist. No shirt, which left the slashing claw marks all along his back open. They were deep...real deep. The kind of cuts that were meant to kill and cut flesh from bone, sever tough tendons. Nothing clean about these slices. Yep, definately an animal attack of some kind.

I wasn't the kind of guy to shy away from gore, but dead bodies were another story. There was no way this guy could have survived so much damage... I knew this for a fact. I had a doctor friend who told me all kinds of nasty-ass stories. In some ways, she was a lot tougher than me. But only in SOME ways. The ways involving cutting dead bodies open and examining organs. The insides had been out in the open air too long. Too much blood was lost. The gods only knew how long he'd been out here anyway. I knew all this...and yet I still nudged the bastard with my foot.

"Yo, buddy, you dead?"

"Ugh..." The chest heaved, a hiss of pain, fingers clenching.

"Not dead." Huh, imagine that. "Hey, can you hear me?"

I didn't really expect an answer. The dude was fucked up worse than a two-dollar crack whore. I crouched down again, hand reaching to roll him over so he didn't drown in the rain when...

His eyes flew open. Very quick, very sudden. Green eyes...I could tell that in the dark. An unfucking real shade of green. And that look in them... never since have I seen a look quite like that. It's almost impossible to describe, like an odd combination of a despair so deep and soul-crushing your only option is suicide and laughing so hard you almost piss yourself. Not the two I would have ever thought to be in the same place. What the fuck? Slowly, those eyes turned on me...and I swear to the gods I thought he smiled. Naw, couldn't be smiling. More likely a grimace of pain.

"Shit, you're a fucking mess!" I rolled the guy over onto his back and he let out a sharp cry of pain, green eyes crinkling closed, all the amusement gone now and replaced with agony. I couldn't blame him for trying to swat me away. It must have hurt like hell. But I wasn't about to leave his dying ass out in the rain. Not when there was a chance I could actually do something good for a change. Except...I had no fucking clue where to start with this. Basic first aid, no problem. But this... Sighing, I began to gather handfuls of intestine and shove them back into the gaping hole in his stomach, just a little below his ribs. I remembered praying to the Merciful Goddess about making sure they got stuffed in just fine. Not that there was any other choice. I was being as careful as possible. I didn't want my fingers breaking through that fragile feeling tube. It was soft and squished a little as I wound it back through the opening it had spilled out of. Veins and arteries ran down the sides, the arteries a dull pink against greyish tissue, the veins looking almost violet. Shit... how did he survive this? I couldn't get the last in all the way. Son of a bitch!

"Man, you die on me after this, I swear to the fucking gods I'll kill myself so I can kick your ass in the afterlife!" I had to reach into the wound, shove aside some large greyish-pink thing, and cram the rest of his intestines back in place. Or, rather, where I thought they should go. Now, to stop the wound from spilling out again... I whipped my shirt off, soaking wet from all the ran, and jammed it over his side. 'Hey, buddy? Yo, open those pretty eyes for a sec, will ya?"

The guy's skin was going a little grey, like his organs. His eyes were open, but rolling back blindly. Goddamnit, he was losing consciousness! I lifted him a little, arm around behind his shoulders. "Come on, stay with me a little longer!" No good. His head was falling back weakly against my arm. "Wake up, asshole, I'm not carrying you!" I said it, even though I knew I would if I had to. No one deserved to die like this, out alone in the rain with your guts in the road.

"Ugh..." The eyes blinked, focused a little. There was a faint echo of that same odd depressed/happy look in them.

"Okay, just listen to me, got it? Don't shut your fucking eyes! Come on, you gotta stand up with me, okay? Just listen to my voice." I wedged my body under his, one hand pressed over his side, the other under his shoulders. "Ready? On the count of three. One..." I got ready to push. His bare feet found their footing on the wet ground. "Two..." I adjusted my grip around his chest. "Three!" With his help (a little), we both stood up. The guy fell against me, unable to support his weight very well. I almost dropped my shirt holding his insides in, quickly tightening my arm uner his shoulders. "It's not that much further. Walk with me, dude."

The almost dead guy's feet moved, barely, but it was enough to get us going forward. It really wasn't that far to my house, but with his nearly-dead weight leaning on me, me straining to keep him upright while dragging him and keeping the wound closed, not to mention the humid air and the pounding rain, it might as well have been four hundred miles away. I slipped a couple times, caught myself, and kept dragging his ass on. He wasn't as tall as me, wasn't nearly as muscular either, but the bastard felt like he weighed a ton! We finally got to the door, and I had to drop him on the step to get my key out. He hissed again, eyes closed, head lolling from side to side without much control. But his hands...they were holding the shirt in place. Good, that was good. He was at least conscious enough for that. I got the door open, but I was so winded from the hike uphill that instead of getting him to his feet, I hooked my hands under his arms and dragged him inside, trailing blood all across the floor. I stopped in the middle of the living room, glancing over at the door that led to my bedroom. I should have put him there... but at that point I was just too goddamn tired to drag him much further.

I let go of him and moved the couch away from the wall a little. It turned into a futon, which was great for wild parties where people got so smashed they passed out. Now, it was going to be used for something a little different. I didn't bother grabbing the sheets and blanket from underneath, just sort of threw the guy on top of the futon, made sure everything was still in place, and then lit a cigarette. Goddamn it, that was harder than I thought it would be! The guy wasn't moving now, and I thought for a while he was dead, until I saw the slight rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive, for now. I looked down at the cigarette burning between my fingers. He was dying and I was smoking...what kind fo selfish bastard was I? I quickly stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table and ran into the rain, heading back to town like all the nasy monsters of my childhood were after me. I had to hurry and get the doctor if he was gonna live.

It was almost two in the morning now. I could tell because even the bar was closed, the only light coming from Goshi's candle as he counted out the money for the day. The doctor's house was four down and across the street. I went over and started banging on the door as loud as I could. Heito slept like a log. He'd learned how after getting married to Miri and being woken up at all hours of the night. And morning. "Miri! Hey, open up! It's Gojyo, Miri!" I kept pounding and shouting, ignoring the lights flickering on down the street as people peered through windows and curtains to see what all the fuss was about.

A light came on and the door unlocked. Miri answered it, blinking sleepily. Her black hair was pulled back in a braid, her robe tied tightly around her waist, and she had her bag already. "Who'd you fuck up tonight, Gojyo?" she muttered, shaking an umbrella open to step outside. She wore her rain boots over her pajama pants. Miri started walking over to the bar.

"No, not the bar," I said quickly, grabbing her wrist. It was then I remembered I still had blood all over me. It covered my bare chest, my jeans, most of my arms. I was out in the rain, shirtless and with my pants hanging low, covered in blood. Shit...

Miri's eyes followed the blood, but she wasn't horrified. Shocked, maybe, but she was a professional first. "What in the hell happened?" she asked softly.

"Look, just come with me. I've got some dude lying on the sofa bleeding to death!"

Nodding, she followed me at a run all the way back to my house. I'd left without closing the door, which I cursed about silently when I saw the flood in my living room. Great...just fucking great. This guy was becoming more and more of a problem.

Miri rushed over to his side as I shut the door and flicked the lights on overhead. "Holy shit...Gojyo, where did you find him?" she demanded, opening her bag and rooting around for something blindly.

"Out in the woods," I answered, coming over next to her. It was gonna make me sick, but I sort of had to watch. After all, I DID drag this guy all the way back to my place, didn't I? "So, what do you think got him?"

"Not what. Who. This wasn't an animal attack."

I looked again at all the ragged slashing wounds crisscrossing over his chest and at the gaping wound that disemboweled him. "Uh...come again?"

Sighing, Miri threaded a needle with surgical thread and answered. "This wasn't an animal. It was demon. A girl in the next town over was attacked by youkai almost a week ago. Socho, their healer, told me about it and had me take a look. She was messed up, let me tell you. Plus, see those little cuts on his shoulders and arms? Those were made by a knife. I'd say your friend here was attacked by youkai and managed to escape. Odd they would attack their own kind, though."

I frowned and looked again more closely. No markings, no ears, no claws. So where the hell did she get off saying- oh... I touched one of the silver cuffs on his ear, drawing back sharply when it zapped me. Limiters. The guy WAS a demon! "Miri, you're not gonna..."

Miri paused in sewing to glare at me. "Gojyo, I've known you for six years now, and have I once mentioned anything about you being a halfbreed? I'm insulted you should even ask me to keep my mouth shut!"

I grimaced, feeling guilty for even thinking Miri would be anything but discreet. I should have known she'd be cool about it. I smiled an apology and continued to watch her sew his side up. His side...oh, fuck! "Hey, uh, Miri?"

"Yessum?"

"I...sorta, kinda had to shove his guts back in. You might wanna check it out."

"Goddamn it, Gojyo, NOW you mention it!"

"Hey, I was distracted! So sue me!"

Sighing again, she prodded around inside the guy's stomach, arm buried in up to her elbow. "Other than the kidney being shoved a little too high and the small intestine being slightly twisted, not half bad, Sha Gojyo," she said after a bit, pulling her hand out and continuing as if this were perfectly normal. Well, for ehr, maybe it was. But for me...

"I'm going outside to smoke. I can't handle this shit."

"Fucking baby!"

"Fucking bitch!"

Miri smiled and snorted at that. It was a long standing joke, dating back to when we used to date ourselves. Miri and I...well, she was too much like me. It was just too goddamn weird making love to someone who you knew wouldn't mind if you accidentally burped while kissing them. Not that that ever happened...honestly, it never did.

I stayed close to the house, under the small awning over the door, and lit up, letting the cool flow of nicotine soothe my raw enrves. Tonight, I'd saved a man's life. Wow... what did you do after that? I mean, say you get the shit ripped outta you, you stumble away bleeding and dying, crash into the middle of a road, have some stranger haul you to their home, and wake up on that same stranger's futon? I know I'd be like, "What the fuck?" Maybe that's just me, though. For the gods' sakes, wasn't I earlier wondering what it would be like to down shots of bleach? I couldn't now. I've already come this far in helping the bastard. I might as well stick it out and see he gets totally better.

I had not one, but two cigarettes before Miri came out, hands clean and with her bag all packed up. She looked like she'd been through hell and back. "I did what I could," she said, rubbing her eyes. "That wound on his belly's gonna scar, no helping that. He's gonna have a few on his back, and he's got almost a two hundred stitches on him all over. I gave him some opium to keep him asleep." She held out a little brown bottle to me.

I took it, shaking the contents experimentally. "What's this for?"

"It's more opium. He's going to be in huge amounts of pain for a while yet. Let him wake up enough to eat and drink a little, but drug him so he goes back to sleep. A half a teaspoonful should do the trick." She handed me a little measuring spoon.

I smiled as I took that as well. "You know me too well."

"No, I just know that you don't cook for shit, and probably don't have any measuring utensils in your kitchen. Mix it in with his food. Broth mostly, and water or orange juice. And don't let him move around a lot, either. That stomach wound...that has to be one of the worst injuries I've ever seen! He's very lucky you were there, Gojyo. A couple minutes more and he would have been dead."

A couple minutes more...he was lucky... It was almost laughable, really, to think that the unlucky halfbreed was lucky for a youkai dying in the road. When he woke up, he'd probably be pissed as hell and threaten suicide at the thought of having me touch him. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if he did. I'd gotten enough dirty looks in my time to understand what kind of an insult it would be. Oh, well, I played the savior, and that's that.

"Oh, and no smoking in the house, either! He's sick enough without you poisoning him."

That had been another reason Miri and I broke up. She was the reason I's tried to quit to begin with. And me not being able to helped her decide to leave. "Wait... so you're asking me not to smoke in my own house?" I demanded.

"Nooo, not asking. Telling you. If I catch you smoking inside around my patient, Sha Gojyo, I'll rip your nads off!" Miri waved a finger under my nose, grinning broadly.

I grabbed that finger, arching a brow. She wasn't tall, not in the least, and didn't look much for size. But I'd seen her in a fight before. The bitch was viscious. Ripping my nads off wasn't an idle threat with the pint-sized hellion. "Will do, doc. And, Miri?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

Miri's smile softened and she pulled her hand away. "Anything for you, stud, you know that. I've gotta go before Heito thinks you've run away with me."

"Ha! You wish I would!" I watched her walk away into the pink sky until she disappeared down the hill. Damn...I'd been an idiot for letting that one go so quickly. My eyes shifted back through the open door to the shape lying on my couch. "Just you and me now, pal," I said. I didn't really expect him to hear me. He was unconscious and probably drugged so heavily the house could have burned down around him. Sighing, I went back inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. I went to the kitchen and put the opium and the spoon in one of the empty cabinets, shooing away the little spider crawling around. The place was a fucking disaster. Dishes sitting dirty in the sink, old porno mags left out on the table, dart holes in the wall near the door from where the darts missed. Ground out cigarette butts on the carpet floor, in beer cans and in the ashtray. Yeah... tomorrow I would clean up a bit. Not right now.

Right now, all I wanted was for this day to end. I just wanted to fall asleep where it didn't matter if my hair was the color of blood. Where I didn't have to gamble and (occassionally) whore myself out just to make ends meet. Where everything was alright, and I didn't feel so goddamned depressed all the time. Tomorrow, things were gonna change. Finally, things were different.

After all, if I died now, who the hell was gonna watch after Dead Guy's ass?


	3. Monkey See, Monkey Do

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Goku scowled. And huffed. And then sighed. He picked his head up, adjusted his folded arms on the table and put his head down again, running his newly trimmed claws over the bare skin of his arms. After what had happened to the nice lady, Sanzo had used little metal things a trimmed them and then used some kind of stick-thing to make them rounder. He'd been told to watch and do it in the future...but he hadn't. There had been a pretty bird on the Window and he'd wanted to go touch it.

He scowled and sighed again. Now he was alone. And he didn't like being alone. Sanzo had told him to wait here. He said he'd be back soon, that he had to 'do something'. And he'd hit Goku in the head when he'd asked to come along. He sure did hit a lot! He returned his gaze to the object on the table, the one Sanzo had left behind. He said he'd be back soon...but when WAS 'soon'? Why couldn't 'soon' be now? He didn't know how long Sanzo had been gone...but he hated being alone.

Picking up the object on the table, Goku opened the top, just like he'd seen Sanzo do several times a day. He sniffed at those funny white sticks, those cigarettes. He drew back, rubbing his nose at the sharp smell. They smelled all dirty and gross! And Sanzo had said they didn't taste good. But they HAD to since he seemed to like them so much! Goku saw the other thing, the one that made fire, tucked in next to the cigarettes. He pulled it out, looking at the shiny metal.

There had been a design on it, but it was worn away now. And the cover opened very easily, too. Goku stared at it, trying to figure out how it worked. How could something like this make fire? Lightening made fire when it hit a tree. If it was too hot in the summer, it could start a forest fire. So how did this little thing make fire? Sticking his tongue out, he consentrated very hard. Maybe you had to think really hard about it...

No such luck. He growled, eyes narrowing. How did this work? He thought back to watching Sanzo do it and put one hand behind it, shielding it. Nothing. "Grrr..." He thought again about it... and remembered seeing Sanzo not light it like that before! He'd pressed this little thing here...

There was a soft _click_ and then... "I did it! I made a fire!" Grinning, pleased with himself, Goku let go of the little wheel-thing and tried it again, thumb slipping down and making it _click_ again. He was doing it! He could make a fire just like Sanzo! He wished Sanzo were here to see this. He'd smile when he saw how clever Goku was!

But, wait... he wasn't doing it right still. Goku eyed the cigarettes, a mix of curiousity and disgust in his golden eyes. They smelled really gross. But Sanzo wouldn't do anything gross...right? He pulled one of the sticks out. One end was darker than the other. Which end...which end...

The darker one. Sanzo always put the darker one in his mouth. Goku followed suite and held the dark end between his lips. He picked up the fire-thing and made a flame. And then, he held it to the other end of the stick...

The door opened and Sanzo came back in, making Goku jump. "I forgot my...what the FUCK do you think you're doing?" Goku yelped as the fan came out of nowhere and collided with his head.

"OW! SANZO! OW, QUIT!"

"YOU GODDAMN STUPID MONKEY! I'VE TOLD YOU BEFORE THAT SMOKING ISN'T FOR KIDS!" The fan continued to come down, very hard, and Goku dropped the cigarette and the fire-thing to cover his head.

The assault stopped and Goku glanced up through his arms, shaking. Sanzo...Sanzo was really, REALLY angry! He watched as the man with golden hair picked up the fire-thing and the cigarette, staring at them with something like hate. Goku cowered when that angry glare turned to him.

"Get up!"

Goku quickly got to his feet, tugging his red shirt back in place. He couldn't look Sanzo in the eye. Why was he so angry? he'd just been doing what Sanzo did every day! How could that be bad?

The fire-thing _clicked_ and then he smelled the cigarette. He looked up, eyes wide and mouth open as it was handed to him. There was something not nice in Sanzo's violet eyes... something that made him cringe and shrink back a little.

"You want to smoke so bad, fine! Here, start smoking and don't stop until the rest of this pack is finished!" He threw the box of cigarettes onto the table by Goku.

"Huh?" But, didn't he just say smoking wasn't...

"Put the damn thing between your lips, breath in and let it out. NOW!"

Goku took the burning stick with shaky fingers and put it to his lips again. Sanzo crossed his arms over his chest, glaring and waiting. Slowly, he did as he was told, breathing in deeply. And then he was choking and coughing, eyes stinging with tears. It...hurt! It really hurt! Why did Sanzo DO this if it hurt so badly? He turned big eyes up to Sanzo, still choking on the nasty burned taste in his mouth and throat.

There was no mercy in those cold eyes. "You've got six more to go. Step on it."

Goku shuddered; he didn't wanna finish this awful thing! But he also didn't wanna get hit again. Closing his eyes tightly, he continued to draw the smoke in, cough it out, shudder and repeat the process until that one was done. And then there was another and another...Sanzo kept lighting them and Goku kept smoking them.

By the time he was done, Goku's stomach felt weird, but not in the Hungry way. He groaned, clutching his stomach, and fell to his knees. It was...gross! His mouth tasted icky, his eyes hurt and his stomach... "S-Sanzo?"

A small box used for putting crumbled papers in was pushed into view. Sanzo sat on the floor next to him, holding his hair back. "You're going to puke. Aim for the trash can, dumb shit."

Goku's eyes widened and he grabbed the Trash Can with both hands, pulling it toward him as he felt something pour out of his throat and in, steaming wet and smelling almost as bad as the cigarette. Just thinking about it made him do it again. He stared down at the little bits of food floating in a yellowish liquid. This...this was awful!

Sanzo sat with him the entire time, holding the Trash Can when he couldn't, keeping his long hair out of his face. "Just remember this the next time you think about stealing my smokes, got it?"

Goku nodded before he spilled more stuff into the Trash Can. NEVER again was he gonna do that!


	4. Hakkai

The first conscious thought I had was, "It burns". My stomach was a knot of searing pain that start from the inside in a small tight ball and radiated out until even the skin felt enflamed. Was this what the fires of Hell felt like? If so...it wasn't as terrible as I had been expecting it to be. I felt like I should ask for more, but my entire body was too lethargic to even twitch a finger. The only true feeling was that steady burn. And that wasn't enough for all the things that I had done. The list of sins was long; Jealousy, anger, pride. Oh, and of course the incest and murder. After all that, Hell was a kindness I didn't deserve. Nothing could torment me more than the agony in my soul. Let the flames take me and do their worst.

But, if this was Hell, then why could I feel cotton under my fingers, worn smooth and soft from multiple washings? And for an inferno of pain, it was oddly springy and comfy. A bed? In Hell? No, it couldn't be. I knew for a fact the wounds were fatal, and even if I did survive the initial attack, there was the excessive blood loss to deal with. I could have closed the wound at any time, but I didn't. After what she'd done...what I'd seen her do with my own eyes...my eyes... I wanted them taken from my sockets and crushed, made useless so they could never see again. And my hands, too, just take them. That crimson would never come off, no matter how many times the flesh was seared from them. Maybe this WAS Hell and my punishment was to see the act over and over again. Just over and over and over...And I couldn't keep it from my mind. My gut wrenched, the pain twisting deep. My fingers clenched the sheets tightly, teeth clenched to keep from screaming. This pain was nothing...nothing. I wanted more! I deserved more! It subsided in low, throbbing pangs, leaving my side aching and arms shaking. The bed creaked as I released my hold on the sheets and relaxed again.

So, Hell had a bed with a dent worn in the middle to conform around my body. The sheets smelled like cigarette smoke, laundry soap, beer and something else I couldn't place. It was both familiar and foreign at the same time. I couldn't see anything, just imprints of images. Darkness with the vague impression of light and shadow shifting. The light was constant, the shadow moved. It wasn't the play of flames I was expecting. More like someone pacing in front of a window. God, my side...my entire STOMACH! Perhaps in their infinite wisdom, the keepers of Hell implanted a living flame in my gut, one that would slowly burn me from the inside out. I truly hoped so, and hoped even more fervently that it would grow to consume me whole. So far, though, Hell was unimpressive. Not at all the nightmarish place it was made out to be.

And...was I naked? A quick search with leaden fingers told no, I was wearing boxers that felt strangely like silk...and gauze. Guaze? Yes, that's what it was. I could feel it all over now that I recognized it. the guaze was wrapped all across my abdomen, parts of my back and chest. My wrists and palms, too, leaving my fingers bare. It even covered one side of my face. My other eye was closed. That was why I couldn't see. This was completely unexpected and hardly necessary. After all, wasn't I supposed to be experiencing eternal pain and damnation? Why bother with this act of kindness?

My fingers fell back on my chest, too heavy to move to the bed again. This was starting to feel less and less like Hell. The cloudy, disjointed feeling in my head, the difficulty moving. This felt more liked I'd been given too much cold medicine. It was starting to wear off, though, the scorching ache making its presence more insistantly persistant, throbbing so wildly that the muscles all along my side, abdomen and chest twitched in time with it. It only served to feed the hurt. The more it hurt, the more I think I smiled. This was what I had wanted. My punishment for the sins involved with loving too much. My thoughts faded out and came back again, one minute remembering what had happened and concentrating on the wound, the next blocking it out and letting me get relief.

Still...I should be more focused than this. I could feel the pain, but it didn't mean anything to me. I was detached from ti. It was surreal, there like a dream and gone again in quick, random bursts. I acknowledged it, but my thoughts didn't dwell there like they should have. To not have it be constant and unrelenting was pointless. A tease. It would have served better had I made it through the Gates of Heaven wrongfully and been left there with the knowledge I didn't belong. That would have been a torment worhty of someone like me. After what she did, Heaven wouldn't take her in. At least in Hell, we'd be together again.

The longer I lied there, letting the pain gnaw at me, the more I began to believe that maybe I hadn't died after all. Maybe, somehow, I had survived. But...that was impossible. All the injuries I sustained, all the blood I lost. The only logical conclusion to these two things was death. But a soft breeze was coming from somewhere, smelling strongly of pine and cedar. Not unpleasant in the least, especially when I was expecting brimstone and ash. Birds were chirping wildly, and I believe there was also the sound of water sliding over stones. It was warm, tooo, like sunshine rather than an endless inferno. I felt the sheets under me, rubbing my gauzed palms over the smooth surface, just to be sure they were real. They were. I wanted to frown but couldn't because my jaw ached like I'd been punched. Oh, wait, I was punched. I remember now. That big guy...right before I killed him.

Except for my sight, all my other senses seemed to be in working order. I could taste the dryness in my mouth, sticky and unclean. I could hear the many noises through an open window, feel the sunlight on my skin, smell the stale cigarette smoke on the sheets. All of my senses were telling me I wasn't dead. Then, if I wan't dead, where was I? I'd fallen down in the middle of the road during the heavy rain that seemed to follow me from that awful places. The place where she still layed crumbled in a heap, blood turning thick and gelatenous and cold against my hands. No one would have been traveling in that weather, down that road at just the time I was lying there ready to embrace my mortality. It wasn't possible.

I heard another noise, a whistling one. There was the sound of water being poured into a ceramic mug and then strong tea filled the air. Tea...my stomach lurched and tightened the wound and I hissed, eyes opening...

And staring straight into a dirty light fixture. Dead flies were trapped in that plastic yellowing globe. The ceiling was warped a little with water marks dotting along it in uneven patches of brown against the dull white. How...ordinary. The sheets were a worn blue with bleach stains on them, the pillow lumpy and the smal bed in desperate need of a new mattress and frame. The curtains to either side of the open window were an ugly shade of green that clashed with everything. It was funny in a way. I never would have thought they'd have such bad taste in decorations down here. So weary looking and drab. "Hell is so mundane," I heard myself croak out.

The entire frame of the bed shook as tanned hands were planted on either side of my face. Deep crimson hair spilled around me. Spilled like the blood on my hands...a rain of blood. Eyes the same color blazed down at me, narrow and a little vexed. Thin lips twisted into a scowl. Two thin scars ran down a thin cheek. A man...was this my guardian angel and my torturer? "Well, excuse me if I keep the place clean," he bit out sharply, voice pleasant with a faint accent I couldn't place.

"What?"

He drew back, pulling a tie from his wrist and yanking his hair back quickly. It was long...longer than most of the men I knew kept it. Longer than mine had been. She'd cut it short the day she'd...the day I'd lost her. "Sha Gojyo, aka the dude who dragged your ass through the mud and rain to hear you bitch about the accomodations. Or, you can just call me Gojyo. Nice to finally meet you."

Sha Gojyo... I would remember that name.


	5. Save Yourself

Save Yourself

Sanzo glanced over his shoulder as he walked down the road. He didn't want to, but he couldn't stop. That runt was right behind him, humming some song he must have made up, pretending to balance as the walked. Damn that brat... why he couldn't just dump him at some orphanage or leave him at an inn was beyond him! There was something about those golden eyes that made him want to hit the kid one minute and the next buy him a meatbun because of how happy something so simple as food made him. Ridiculous!

They were entering a heavily forested part of the region, the path narrowing down to the point where Sanzo was fighting with trees to get by. This was the short cut? He was beginning to doubt it! The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up, a tingle moving down his spine. Youkai... nine- no, ten- all gathering in the trees around them. Slowly, he slipped his hand into his robe, pulling out the banishing gun as carefully as he could. He willed his heart to stop beating so fast, taking deep calming breaths and relaxing his body for the fight to come. That part of his mind that he reserved for killing opened up, making his eyes turn from slightly annoyed to cold in the space of moments. "Goku..."

The boy stopped behind him, rubbing his arms. Obviously, he felt the presence, too. "S-Sanzo?" he asked nervously.

"Whatever you do, stay close to me. Keep your back to my back, got it?"

"What's going on?" Goku asked, even as he followed the calmly voiced order. His tiny shoulders only came to about midback on the much taller priest and were shaking a little.

"We've got company. Stay close, do what I tell you and don't argue."

* * *

Goku gulped as the pressure in the air increased. This feeling... it was familiar. It didn't feel nice, either. His whole back felt like it was about to crawl right away from his body...except it was being held in place by Sanzo. And Sanzo was scary, too! He was so quiet and very still, just like he was waiting for something to happen, something that wasn't good. There wasn't even the usual angry heat coming from him. Goku waited, hands shaking and fisted tightly as the stillness descended even further on the forest, silencing even the birds. His breathing sped up, his heart pounded hard in his chest. What was going on? Why was it so quiet? Why didn't they just keep walking? So many, many questions filtered into his head that he hardly heard the rustling of the leaves. He yelped when people came leaping from the trees, growling and shouting.

"SANZO!" Goku covered his ears, falling to the ground as a deafening sound echoed through the forest just behind him. The cries changed from fierce to scared, the air filled with grey dust. Sanzo was shouting at him, trying to tell him something, but he was too scared to listen. Goku remained crouched where he was, eyes screwed closed tightly, fingers grabbing handfuls of his hair as he covered his ears to keep that horrible sound out.

_Get up! Get up now! Stop acting like a idiot and get up!_

The words raced through his mind. They weren't his. He didn't know what an Idiot was. Goku pried his eyes open, tears stinging them. A body fell before him, blood blossoming across it's front before it exploded in a wash of grey dust. What... what was that?

_Get your ass up NOW!_

Goku looked over his shoulder and saw Sanzo's mouth moving to the silent order. His eyes were glittering with rage... and something else the boy hadn't ever seen before and didn't have a name for. It had to do with him, though. Goku stood slowly...

And screamed when a clawed hand circled his throat, pulling him in roughly against a hard chest. Saliva dripped onto his shoulder, sharp teeth gnashing near his ear. He tried to break the hold on him. He knew he was strong! But... this person was as strong as him. This person was just like him...except he wasn't! Goku breathed in the sweaty smell of the skin and recognized it as being similar to his. Nothing like Sanzo. So, this person was yuba...no, not that. Sanzo gave him another name. What was it? Youkai! That was it! Then, why was this youkai fighting him if he was the same? Shouldn't they be friends? The words from the mouth by his neck made him whimper and struggle harder, dissolving any illusions of friendship.

"The scripture! Hand it over or the brat dies!"

Goku's eyes widened and the tears fell hot against his cheeks. "SANZO! HEEEEEELP!"

* * *

Sanzo glared at the youkai, wishing for about the millionth time he could just kill someone with a look, like that stupid-as-shit adage went. If he could, he would have taken the monkey-boy out with it as well! Damn that brat! Damn him for getting taken hostage! Damn him for not moving when he was told! Damn him for cowering like a fucking child...

Except, he was a child. A quick flash of another incident came to mind, very similar to this one. His master... hadn't he cowered down when his master took the blow for him? Granted, he fought back after it happened, but he'd still been afraid. Fucking hell! He angrily shoved those painful memories aside, training the gun on the face leering over Goku's shoulder. "Let him go, and I'll make it quick," he said quietly, all attention focused on the opponent with the hostage. It would be close... just a hair too slow and he'd hit Goku instead.

The youkai sneered at him, lips curling back to expose long fangs. "How generous of you to offer! Sorry, but I don't make deals with humans."

"You say 'humans' like it's a bad thing. Jealous I'm prettier than you'll ever be, cocksucker?"

Snarling, eyes narrowing to slits of pure malice, the youkai's hand tightened around Goku's neck, drawing blood. Goku screamed again, pulling downward with his body and sinking the claws in deeper.

"Stay still, Goku," Sanzo shouted, not sparing a glance for the boy. Youkai were fast. If he looked away for a second, Goku would be dead.

"Sanzo! Sanzo, please!"

"I said STAY STILL!"

Goku's struggles ceased slowly, but his breathing was getting more shallow as the stand-off carried on. Shit, if the kid wasn't careful he would hyperventilate! Sanzo watched every little twitch the youkai made, waiting for some tell-tale sign of what his next move would be.

He got it with a slight twitch in the youkai's eyes.

The youkai shoved Goku in Sanzo's direction. Sanzo dove to the side, rolling across the leaves, and came up on one knee, gun aimed at the youkai's side as he surge forward to where Sanzo should have been. Goku's body had blocked the monk's movements. Sanzo fired without hesitation, watched the blood burst free of the flesh, heard the agonizing death scream... and felt nothing. That cold darkness in his mind, the place where he killed, swallowed up the vision of the body exploding into dust, took the sound of that awful screaming and disposed of it.

Goku was lying on the ground right in front of where the youkai had died, covered in ash and blood. His eyes were still panic-stricken, chest rising and falling so fast he couldn't be getting enough oxygen. Sanzo stood up slowly, clicking the safety back and tucking the gun inside his robe again before going over to where Goku was gaping at nothing, the anger now boiling over. That little shit...

* * *

Goku looked up, backing away fearfully as something pale entered his line of sight. "OW!" It was that bad fan! He cowered down, covering his head with his hands as Sanzo whacked him over and over again.

"YOU GODDAMN IDIOT! YOU ALMOST GOT US BOTH KILLED! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHEN I SAY GET UP, I MEAN **GET THE FUCK UP NOW!**"

"Ow, Sanzo... OUCH! You're hurting me! Sanzo...OWOWOWOWOW!"

The beating finally stopped. Sanzo was breathing hard, cheeks red and eyes glittering like those pretty stones Goku used to find in his Prison. Goku looked up, wincing when shoulders shifted. His shoulders were stiff and very sore now, thanks to that stupid fan! "I'm sorry..." he mumbled, not sure what he was apologizing for. He didn't mean to be afraid. He didn't mean to get into trouble. He didn't mean to almost get them both killed. He didn't mean for a lot of things. But, most importantly, he didn't mean to make Sanzo angry. "I'm sorry..."

Goku winced when Sanzo's hand came down. But, instead of hitting him like he thought, those slim fingers slid through his hair, resting on the top of his head in a way that made Goku look up, eyes wide again in a different kind of shock. Those violet eyes weren't angry anymore. It was that emotion Goku didn't have a name for, now there openly and easy to see.

"How's the neck?" Sanzo asked softly.

Fingers feeling his throat experimentally, Goku found it hurt, but not too badly. The cuts were already starting to heal. "Not bad. Did the mean people hurt you?"

"No. Get up." Sanzo's hand fell away from his hair, and he felt a momentary sadness that the connection was broken. Sanzo's eyes returned to their usual emptiness (the look he had when he wasn't angry) and he pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one and blowing out greyish smoke. "Let's get going before more of these assholes arrive."

Goku obeyed this time, standing up and quickly following behind Sanzo. He walked up next to him, looking up at the halo of gold the sun flashing through the trees made of his hair. Just like he remembered it... His hand slipped through Sanzo's only to get it shoved away.

"That's my gun hand, moron. And if you're so insistant on walking next to me, stand to the left. Otherwise, I might end up shooting you."

Smiling, Goku practically skipped around to the other side, grabbing Sanzo's left hand. The only argument the monk offered was a raised eyebrow (something Goku wanted to learn how to do) and a grunt. But this time he didn't shove Goku away. "Hey, Sanzo?"

"Gods, what now?" the man groaned, giving him a scary face. But it wasn't as scary as that awful stillness from not even twenty minutes ago.

Still grinning and bouncing along as they walked, Goku said, "Next time, I'm gonna keep you safe! I promise!"

Sanzo blinked, a surprised expression crossing his face before he made a scoffing sound. "You want to save someone, learn to save yourself first."

Goku had no idea what he meant by that, but he didn't care. He just knew the next time Sanzo was in danger, he would be the one to keep Sanzo safe. No one was gonna hurt him so long as Son Goku was around!

They continued walking as the sun set and the sky darkened. The moon's light flooded the way as they broke through the trees and saw a little village ahead.

"No shit. It really was a short cut," Sanzo mumbled. As they approached to village with it's fence and it's big gate, Sanzo let go of Goku's hand. Goku grabbed a hold of his robe instead. He didn't want to let go of Sanzo just yet!

They found an inn, not as nice as the last one, playing loud music and with lots of people acting weird in it. Goku's eyes widened and he went closer to all the noise and laughter while Sanzo paid for the room, curious what was so fun. Glass shattered as it hit the floor, women were making high pitched sounds while men did things to their lumpy chests. Goku licked his lips nervously, edging closer to the noise.

"GOKU!"

The sharp order was apparent in his name. Goku raced back over to Sanzo's side, looking at the floor as he felt the burning rage on the back of his neck.

"Don't. Fucking. Move. Is that clear?" Sanzo ground out from his tightly clenched teeth.

Goku nodded, cheeks getting hot. He would listen to him this time and not move.

Sanzo began to go down a hall on the left. He stopped, looking about over his shoulder. Goku still did as he was told. "Son of a... get over here!"

"But you just said-,"

"GET OVER HERE!"

Goku yelped and ran quickly forward, following Sanzo down the hall while the man muttered about 'goddamn idiots breeding like rabbits' and 'why the hell am I always surrounded with them' until they came to a room with odd markings on the front.

"Sanzo?" Goku asked, staring at the shiny gold symbol. It wasn't nearly as pretty a gold as Sanzo's hair!

Sanzo paused in putting the key in the door, his entire back straightening. He was getting angry again... "What is it now?"

"What's that?" Goku pointed at the symbol.

"It's the number for our room."

"What's a number?"

Sanzo glanced at him over his shoulder, eyes flickering thoughtfully. "You don't know what a number is?"

Goku shook his head, smiling. "That's why I was askin'!"

"Great...just fucking great." Sanzo was shaking his head as he twisted the key and opened the door.

Goku went bounding in, smile slipping when he saw the room wasn't nice either. "Ew... this is gross!"

"It's only for tonight. Deal with it." The door slammed shut and locked. Goku heard Sanzo's bag hit the floor with a soft thud, heard the silk robe slipping off easily.

There was only one bed. And a little table. And a toilet. And a dirty fireplace. Nothing else. Goku frowned, looking in all the corners for something else, anything else to make the room as nice as the last one. Nothing but cobwebs with spiders, a small pile of dirt and that was it. "Sanzo... I don't like this room!"

"I don't care." The bed creaked as Sanzo stretched out on it, folding the flat pillow over and facing the toward the room on his side. He didn't touch the blanket with holes and stains on it. "Go to sleep."

"Where?"

"I don't care!"

Goku bit his lower lip for a second before clambering up on the bed as well, curling up between Sanzo and the wall.

_WHACK!_

"Ow... hey, what was that for?" Goku whined, rubbing his head. Not that fan again!

"Did I say you could sleep here?" Sanzo growled.

"Nooo... but you didn't say I couldn't either," Goku said hopefully. "And you said you didn't care where I sleep."

Sanzo's teeth rubbed together, making a harsh sound. He rolled back over onto his side. "You know the rules. No moving, no talking, no drooling, no touching, no bodily noises of any kind. And scoot over, dumb ass, you're hogging the bed!"

Goku smiled and pressed himself as close to the wall as possible, closing his eyes. He would make sure he didn't do any of those things...if he could remember half of them!

* * *

**_WHACK!_**

Goku yelped and sat up, blinking in the burning orange light coming from an early sun. Sanzo was holding the fan in his hand, dressed only in his pants and his leather. "Is it time for food?"

"No. Get up and meet me outside." Sanzo turned and left him, shutting the door loudly as he left.

Frowning, Goku noticed Sanzo's robe was still folded on the table and his bag was still by the door. They weren't leaving yet? He got up, jamming his shoes on his feet, though he couldn't remember taking them off to begin with, and hurried downstairs. The man at the desk looked up and pointed with his thumb down the other hallway. "The monk went out back. Said to tell you when you came down."

"Okay!" Goku ran down the hallway and out into the fenced yard with very short grass growing. Sanzo was there, twisting his arms around. He looked funny doing it! Goku snickered and ran up, grabbing an arm and stopping it from moving. "Watcha doin'?"

"Stretching out," Sanzo replied curtly, shaking his arm free. He stepped back a couple paces, eyes narrow. Goku stood where he was, confused. "Remember what I said yesterday?"

"Ummm...heehee," Goku scratched the back of his neck, drawing a blank. "You said lots of things yesterday!"

Sanzo closed his eyes, covering them with one hand. "Never mind. Try to hit me."

Goku blinked. "Huh?"

"Try to hit me," Sanzo repeated.

"But... I don't wanna," Goku mumbled, shuffling his feet. Why did Sanzo want be hit? He knew first hand that it didn't feel good at all!

"Did I give you a choice?" Sanzo said, voice dropping to a cold sound that made Goku shiver. "If you won't, then I will!"

Goku's eyes went wide when Sanzo hit him across the face with an open hand, almost faster than he could follow. "Hey..." He didn't have time to finish when Sanzo did it again, moving in a circle around Goku.

"Put your hands up."

"Like this?" Goku asked, putting his arms straight over his head.

Sanzo shoved one shoulder back, pulling his wrists down so that they were a little in front of him. "Make fists." Goku obeyed, confused when Sanzo kicked his legs apart, pushing his shoulders down so his knees were bent. "This is a basic defensive position."

"Um...okay." Why did he need to stand like this?

Stepping back again, Sanzo twisted his neck a little. "Move slowly. When I strike, use your left arm to stop it. Ready?" He moved at a normal speed.

Goku brought his left arm up, blocking it. "Like that?"

"Yes. Again." They repeated the same move over and over and faster and faster until Goku was grinning and blocking at full speed.

"This is fun," he exclaimed.

Sanzo snorted, shaking his head. "Whatever. We're going to add from there. This time, block with your left and punch at my stomach with your right. Ready?"

Goku lost track of time as the continued this way, starting slow and working faster and harder with each move. By the time the noon sun was up, Goku was grinning happily and covered in sweat and dirt. He took the hand Sanzo offered and was pulled to his feet. "Can we do that again?"

Sanzo met his eyes and Goku saw that odd (and now growing familiar) look cross his face before he nodded. "Yes. Everyday until you do it right, stupid monkey. Now get inside and clean up. You smell like ass."

Grinning, Goku ran back inside. He missed the almost sad look in Sanzo's eyes and the muttered, "Gods know I can't be saving your ass all the time." The monk shook his head again and followed the boy inside, wondering for about the millionth time just what in the hell he'd gotten himself into.


	6. Gojyo 2

_"Hell is so mundane_," he said. Ha! I found that amusing. The first thing from those pretty lips was to say my pad was mundane...whatever the hell that meant! I watched him push himself into a sitting position, not offering to help. Somehow, I knew he had to do this by himself. Me helping him would have made him feel helpless or some bullshit like that. So, since I didn't have to help him, I turned my back and pulled out the pack of cigarettes I'd been staring at for the last damn week.

"You were comatose for about a week," I explained to him. "I stuffed most of your guts back in myself. Had a doctor friend of mine come out to look you over. You should be fine... hopefully."

He blinked big green eyes up at me, completely devoid of any emotion other than mild shock and a consuming despair. Shit...

"Heh, whatever! The doctor wouldn't shut up about how you had to sleep. And she wouldn't let me smoke in here. Believe me, I am now!" I ignored that look and lit up, letting the cool flow of nicotine enter my lungs, slowing my heart down. God, how I missed that!

"Oh... of course. I guess I should thank you for saving me."

Something about that voice made me glance at him over my shoulder. He sounded like a guy who'd risked everything and lost it all painfully. My view of him was obscured by thick strands of blood red. Goddamn hair... no matter how many times I cut it off, it always grew back the same! I pulled a chair up to the bed, sitting in it backward. "So... you mad?"

Confusion registered briefly across that face. "Excuse me?"

"You mad that I saved you? That this isn't hell? I'm guessin' from the attitude you wanted to die."

He offered a tentative smile, staring at his folded hands. The dude had to be in pain sitting like that. "No, I'm glad you did, really. Thank you."

I frowned, taking a pull and letting the smoke out slowly. "No problem. The doctor said you should be fine in about a month. Until then, keep your ass in bed, got it?"

Laughing softly, his green eyes softened a bit as he said, "Yes, sir."

"This is the first and last time I ever bring a dude to my bed," I declared as I got up and went into the kitchen. "You've gotta be hungry. Fucking Miri kept shoving chicken broth down your throat."

"I see."

Damn... this was weird! I didn't know jack shit about this guy and here I was talking like we'd been friends for years. For all I knew he was some mass murdering psycho with a fetish for gorgeous red-heads. "So... we've got beef ramen, chicken ramen or plain ramen. Take your pick!"

His gentle laugh came to me again and made me shiver. How could something that's supposed to be happy sound so goddamn sad? "Beef is fine, thank you. I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

"Whatever. I've had more annoying bedmates than you. At least you don't keep pestering me about our future together and shit." I couldn't begin to explain why I felt the need to bring that laughter back more. Maybe it was because he seemed on the point of ripping those stitches out and bleeding to death in my bed. Or maybe it was me trying to matter to someone for once in my life. Whatever the reason, I was hellbent to keep this guy from suiciding on me.

I quickly boiled up some water, peeling the top off the styrofoam container of dried noodles. The fake beef scent wafted up to my nose, making it wrinkle. I really hated this shit, but it was cheap and easy and it tasted good with beer. "Listen, I'm gonna have to step out in a few minutes. Miri said to get her when you woke up. Plus, this is the last of the ramen. So while I'm out, I want you to lie back and count ceiling tiles."

"If you insist."

"Hell-fucking-yeah I insist! It's my house!" I handed him the cup of noodles and broth, along with a fork. "All the spoons are dirty. You'll have to make do."

"That's just fine," he answered with a hesitant smile.

I took my seat back, digging into the veggie ramen I made for myself. Man, this guy really had a number done on him. Sighing, I ate in silence. It wouldn't be good to press the guy when it was obvious he didn't want to talk about it. A part of me wished he would just let it out. Whatever had happened had scarred him mentally. I knew all about scars, both external and internal. Sighing again, I tipped the ramen back in my mouth, draining it down to the gritty seasoning that always seemed to settle at the bottom, no matter hom much you stirred it. Wiping my mouth, I stood up, swinging a leg over the chair. "I'm gonna be heading out then. If a pretty girl shows up without me, it's most likely Miri. If not... get her name so I can look her up at a later date!"

The shocked expression followed quickly by an embarassed flush made me smile. An innocent guy, huh? Not many of those left in the world. I shut the door after myself and lit up again as I started the walk back to town. Maybe I'll go out a little later and play some hands. It had been a while since I'd been out to the local casino/bar/whatever-else-you-needed. It might do me some good. Scare off a few rivals, win some money, pick up a few chicks... except, I didn't have a place to take them to.

And the reason for that was lying in my bed, in pain and waiting for me to come back. Damn... this had to be what it was like to be married!

>>>>>>>>>>

Later that afternoon, after telling Miri that the guy wasn't dead any longer and buying what groceries I could with what cash I had, I trudged back home with two bags full of ramen noodles, crackers and peanut butter. Oh, and a case of beer. I'd had to scrape together whatever I could find in my pocket just for that little luxury, but was worth it. The sky was quickly turning an inky purple-blue color in the east, the moon just beginning to show its face. No stars yet, but plenty of red light from the sun to blind me.

I balanced one of the bags against my hip and the door frame of my house, fishing the key from my pocket. I was just about to fit the key to the lock, shifting quickly to keep the bag from tumbling, when the door was yanked open and Miri took one of the bags from me. "I thought I heard you out here," she commented, stepping back to let me through.

Grinning, I gave her a flirty wink and went into the kitchen. I put my bag on the counter and put the beer in the fridge for later. "Yeah, well, I've never been the quiet type."

The double meaning wasn't lost on the other two. Miri chuckled, used to my humor. The guy in the bed blushed deep red. He was lying down again, watching us unpack the groceries.

"Damn it, Gojyo!"

I paused in lighting my cigarette, baffled at Miri's angry outburst. "What?"

She waved a pack of ramen under my nose, her amber-green eyes sparking angrily. "Ramen? A whole damn bag full of ramen?"

"Yeeeah. So?" What the hell was she bitching about? Ramen was good shit! Her hand whipped out and smacked me in the head. I could have stopped it if I hadn't been so surprised she done it. The back of my head and neck smarted where her open hand connected. "Ow! Goddamn it, woman! What the hell was that for?"

"He's sick and you're giving him this shit?" Miri continued, dropping the ramen back in the bag irritably. "God, it's a good thing you don't have a pet!"

Here was another reason we broke up. Her nagging me. She didn't understand that a gambler, even one of my calibur, only had so much to spend on things like food and clothing. She'd always bring up how I should get a real job and stop living at the bars. But she never listened when I told her I _did_ apply for real jobs, right up until I moved here. Every fucking time I saw a 'help wanted' sign, I was there ready and willing to work. Unfortunately, those other places knew what red hair and eyes meant. A half-breed. Some of them were polite enough to interview me and tell me I was 'under qualified'. But most pulled a weapon and told me to leave. There are only so many times a man can take rejection, ad by the time I got here, I was at my limit.

"Hey, I only had twenty dollars on me! Sorry if I can't buy a cut of veal whenever I feel like it," I snapped.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

Both Miri and I turned to that oh-so-polite voice. The guy had pushed up on one elbow, jade-green eyes reflecting the sorriest expression I'd ever seen. "Huh?" we both asked at once.

"You're fighting because I'm a burden on you. I'm very sorry. If it's too much trouble, please don't feel obligated to keep me here."

I blinked, confused. Why the hell was he apologizing for her? Shit... he didn't really think... "Look, pal, this has nothing to do with you. So stop apologizing and stop looking at me like someone stepped on your puppy."

Whether it was the reassurance or the puppy comment, he offered that sad little smile and relaxed back into the mattress again.

I raked a hand through my long hair, gaze flicking over to Miri as she sighed. "I don't have time togay, but I can swing by tomorrow with real food."

"Ch' whatever. Ramen IS real food, I'll have you know." Woman just didn't know when to quit...

"Yeah, as in real BAD food! I have to go. I'll stop by tomorrow." She gathered her bag up, pausing at the door to smile at the man. "I'm glad you're awake now. It was a pleasure getting to see such pretty eyes for a change."

That comment made him wince, cheeks paling a little. Miri didn't seem to notice the reaction as she cast one final glare at the cigarette in my hand before shaking her head. I made a face behind her back. Childish? Hell yeah! But it sure felt good!

"And you make that face again, I'll spread it around that Sha Gojyo is carrying a few passengers!"

I gaped at the door slamming shut behind her. Damn... that was just plain mean! Not that I thought she really would live up to the threat, but still... "How the fuck did she...?"

A soft laugh from the bed drew my attention back to my guest. "Your reflection in the window," he answered, hand twitching to keep from itching his still wrapped up stomach.

"Does it hurt?" I immediately went to the cabinet with the opium. Shit, where the hell did I put it? I dug back behind the freshly stocked bandages and bottles of cold medicine before I found it. "You need some of this?"

"No.. the pain's fine."

My eyes narrowed. He didn't say he was fine. He said the pain was fine. Which meant he WAS in pain but was just going to suffer through it. I filled the empty kettle with hot water and got the instant tea bags from another cabinet. I hated tea, but it was a good back up for when I couldn't afford coffee. "Yeah, well, how about you take some anyway?" He could go ahead and be a masochist on his own time. Sorry, but I'm not one to leave a dude in pain like that. "So, what did the she-demon say?"

"Huh?"

I mixed the opium into the tea and brought it over to him, turning around my chair again. Miri must have sat in it since it was facing the right way. He sat up in the bed, breath catching as his side twisted, and took the offered cup. "Thank you. She said everything appeared to be fine. The wound on my side is a little red, but that's to be expected."

I nodded, not sure how to respond. I wasn't a doctor or anything, so I couldn't agree or disagree. Nodding seemed a good enough answer. I lit the cigarette I'd been holding for a few minutes now, leaning forward and letting the smoke out without realizing I was blowing it almost in the guy's face. "Sorry 'bout that!" I switched hands quickly. If he got sick from my smokes, Miri was gonna crawl up my ass and rip me up!

"Oh. it's alright. This is your house after all."

I smiled, looking around the little dump. I had won it in a black jack game a year ago. Some drunk-assed moron bet more than he could pay. I was gonna let the dude go when he offered the place in payment, complete with the furniture. Seeing as I was crashing on my friend Tong Pu's couch every damn night, it was a good deal to me. Except when it rained. Or snowed. Or was real windy. Okay... so any type of weather was bad for the place! I just haven't had a chance to fix it up yet, that's all.

I finished my cigarette, smoking it right down to the filter before stamping it out. I tipped the last drop of the tea down my throat and stood up, taking the nearly empty mug from my guest, who was slipping into a drug-induced sleep with a peaceful little smile. "Supposed to get cold tonight. I'll get you an extra blanket, okay?"

"Hmm... okay."

Shaking my head, I dumped the rest of his drink down the sink, added both mugs to the growing pile of dishes on the side and went over to the big all purpose closet by the bathroom. Everything was in there. A broom (which I hardly used), a duster (which saw less use than the broom), a few thin towels, some thicker ones (for when I had company in the shower), clothing I couldn't cram into the trunk and, finally, the extra comforters and one lumpy looking pillow. The pillow and one blanket I grabbed and threw at the futon, where another blanket was crumbled on it. My bed now, seeing as he was still using the comfy one. The other, much thicker, blanket I unfolded with a deft flick of the wrist, spreading it out over my guest, who was already asleep. Sighing, I kicked my heavy boots off and pulled the belt free, dropping it on the floor. I only had two light blankets, no way was I getting changed! I found the most comfortable dent in the futon and settled myself, folding the pillow up triple so that I could sleep on it. Both blankets were tucked up and over my head, my knees curled into my chest so my feet didn't poke out the end. This was gonna be one fun night!

>>>>>>>>>>

I remember waking up and wondering, _What the fuck? It's still fucking dark as hell out!_ I couldn't figure out for the life of me what could have dragged me from such an awesome dream. My body was still reacting to that hot chick squirming on my lap! The room was freezing cold, so cold I could see little puffs of breath escape. Goddamn furnace must have cut out again. I kicked the blankets off, sucking in a breath as the cold air hit me hard. Shit! My feet touched the carpet, thankful once again that Tong Pu's dad owned a carpet place and had put remnents down for free so long as I helped with the labor. No problem there. Hugging my arms around my chest, teeth chattering violently, I began to move over to the furnace by the bathroom to restart it. Restarting it involved a couple sharp kicks and one or two hits to the dial before hitting the switch. i was just about to follow procedure when I stopped, looking up. What the... There was a low moaning sound coming from somewhere. Arms hanging loose at my side, fists clenched, I crept back into the room. Maybe it was that damn racoon again... or a fox... My mind went over every possible scenario until...

Until I realized it was the guy. He was moaning in his sleep, writhing around a little, hands balled up around the blankets. He was saying something, but it was impossible to hear clearly. He kept thrashing around, once in a while a little sob breaking free. Tht must be some dream!

"D-Don't... go! Don't go... please..."

I went over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. I put one hand on each of his shoulders to try and hold him still. If he didn't stop moving around so much he was gonna rip the stitches open. "Hey, dude, relax! You're safe."

"Have to... find you! Don't go... Kanan!"

I shook him, trying to wake him up, but he was still drugged. Shit... biting my lower lip, I managed to open the fingers of one hand, grasping it firmly in mine. His hand convulsed around mine, nails digging in hard. Whatever he was dreaming about wasn't good. And just who the hell was Kanan anyway?

"Kanan... don't leave me alone!"

Taking a deep breath, I decided it was best to try and calm him down by playing along. I leaned down and said close to his ear, "I'm here. I'm not leaving you. Just rest now, alright?"

His body relaxed slowly, his breathing evened out. The death grip on my hand eased marginally and a little smile came to his lips. That's when I noticed the tears on his cheeks, rapidly drying in the cool air. "Don't... leave... me..."

I curled up on the bed as best as I could, still holding his hand. "I won't leave you," I whispered, knowing then and there that I wouldn't. For whatever reason, fate decided to throw this guy at me. Either a punishment or a challenge, I wasn't backing down from it. Keeping him alive was my new goal. And anything that got in my way was gonna meet with a messy end!


	7. Star Light, Star Bright

**Star Light, Star Bright**

"Master Sanzo! Welcome back!"

"Did you have a good trip, Master Sanzo?"

"Master Sanzo, allow me to get your bag for you!"

Goku clung to Sanzo's robe, hiding behind his guardian. All these people... they had no hair! They were SCARY! Even the ones who looked about his size didn't have hair. That couldn't be good. And they were all staring at him, too. What if they wanted to take his hair and use it for their own? He tried to get closer to Sanzo, stumbling over his own feet and causing the man to miss a step.

Violet eyes flashed angrily at him, teeth clenched tight and a growl came from that throat. "Will you back the fuck off?"

"But, Sanzo... they're scary," Goku whispered.

"Everything's scary to you. Step back two paces now, Goku. And let go of me!"

Shivering, golden eyes darting around as more and more people stopped at stared at him, some pointing and whispering, Goku did as he was asked, one hand holding the opposite wrist tightly. The whispers got louder and louder until he could finally make out some of the words.

"Who is that boy?"

"Look at his eyes... like melted gold!"

"Do you suppose he's Master Sanzo's pet?"

He didn't like the whispers. He didn't like them at all! Scary, hairless people, acting like HE was the weird one. He closed his eyes tightly, putting his hands over his ears. Maybe if he couldn't see or hear them, they'd go away.

_NOW what the hell are you doing?_

That voice again... there was no sound to it but the impression of the tone was definately Sanzo. It made him feel a little better, knowing he was never really alone. He opened his eyes, meeting a mask of violet. Something flickered there, but it wasn't angry. He wished he knew what it was!

Goku flinched as Sanzo reached out, wrapping his long fingers around Goku's wrists and prying his hands from his ears. He whimpered, shutting his eyes again. He didn't want Sanzo to be angry with him!

"Goku, look at me."

Swallowing heavily, he obeyed again, meeting that hard gaze.

"Shit... this really does scare you, doesn't it?"

He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak.

Shaking his head, Sanzo glared out at the crowd around them. "All of you, piss off! I'm tired and not in the mood to deal with this bullshit. And, since I'm technically not due back until tomorrow, don't disturb me until then."

Startled whispers came again from the hairless guys. One of them stepped toward Sanzo, mouth open. "But, Master Sanzo, since you have returned to us early, won't you please-,"

"Save it. I'm off the clock. Let's go, Goku."

Goku followed Sanzo closely, wide eyes still looking from side to side at the confused faces. They went up a lot of stone steps and in between tall stone poles and through wooden doors. Everywhere Goku looked, there were pretty pictures on the walls of the very big house. Hairless people were everywhere, some of them making funny sounds in rooms together, others talking and still others moving around without a sound, not even looking at them. It was better than all the stares and whispers.

Footsteps, very soft footsteps, followed behind them. Goku turned to find a boy who was a little bigger than he was walking behind them with a funny smile on his face and Glasses. And... he had HAIR! But he didn't like the way the boy was looking at Sanzo. It was... scary. But it wasn't the same scary as the hairless guys. Instead of being scared for himself, he was scared for Sanzo. "Sanzo, someone's followin' us," he whispered.

Sanzo turned just enough to glance over his shoulder. "That's just Dougan."

Oh. He turned around again and waved. The boy blinked and then frowned at Goku. But... people always waved back when he waved at them! Why didn't this boy? Goku sighed sadly, grabbing a handful of Sanzo's robe. That Dougan didn't like him. Nobody here liked him.

"Dougan." Sanzo stopped outside a set of doors, pulling a key from his robe.

"Yes, master?" Dougan asked eagerly, rushing forward. Goku scowled as the boy elbowed him sharply to the side. Ow... that was really mean! He was about to elbow back when Sanzo spoke again.

"Bring dinner for Goku and myself up to my room. And also see if there's a spare cot or mattress somewhere."

"Is your bed... not to you liking?" Dougan asked. He sounded like he was afraid of Sanzo. But why would he be afraid of Sanzo... except for the hitting?

"It's for Goku," Sanzo answered, unlocking the door and pushing it open. "He's staying with me."

Goku beamed at the words, following Sanzo inside without a glance back at the mean boy. Sanzo shut the door with a sigh, locking it again. "Did ya really mean that, Sanzo?" Goku asked softly, trying keep the smile from coming back and losing.

Sanzo pulled out his cigarettes and lit up. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Stupid monkey."

The grin quickly turned upside down and Goku stamped his foot angrily on the floor. "I'm not monkey!"

"You're right. You're just stupid."

Since he still didn't quite know what a 'stupid' was, he didn't argue it. There was a knock on the door and Dougan came in with a big tray full of food. "I'm sorry, master, but since I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow night, I couldn't have the kitchen prepare your favorites."

Goku frowned, scratching his neck. Sanzo had favorite foods? He never really thought about that. "Hey, Sanzo?"

Sanzo let out a stream of smoke, arching a brow as he took a seat at the heavy table. Everything about this room didn't seem... like Sanzo. Lots of pretty colors and a really big bed and big heavy furniture and pictures. HE liked it... but he didn't think Sanzo would.

"What's your favorite food?"

Dougan glared at him. "Fried noodles with ginger, of course," the boy said, lifting his head high in the air. He looked so silly, Goku couldn't help but snicker. The glare became even more glare-y and his cheeks turned pink. "What's so funny?"

"That face... it was great! Can you do it again?" Goku asked, clutching his sides. He could have sworn he saw Sanzo's lips twitch a little.

"Why... what's so funny about my face?"

"It was just so...ahahahaha...silly!"

Dougan turned to Sanzo, mouth opening and closing without a word coming out.

Sanzo picked up those two stick things (he'd told Goku once what they were...but he forgot) and said, "I take it they didn't have a spare mattress."

"No, sorry, master. I'm sure there's room in the servant barracks."

Pouring a dark brown liquid into his glass, Sanzo said, "Don't bother. Tomorrow, take a few of the other boys to town and buy one."

Dougan bowed and said, "Yes, master. Is there anything else you'd like tonight?"

"No. Get out."

Bowing again, Dougan turned to leave, slamming his shoulder purposely into Goku. "Hey..." He turned around, prepared to say something, but Dougan had already left, shutting the door. Rubbing his shoulder a little, he went over to the table, pulling out one of the heavy chairs and sitting in it with his legs crossed onto the seat. He didn't wait for Sanzo to give him permission and dove right in, grabbing a handful of the rice and eating it. "OW!" He rubbed the back of his head where Sanzo had smacked him, glaring back at those violet eyes.

"Use the goddamn chopsticks, moron," the man snarled.

Still scowling, Goku picked one stick up in one hand and another up in the other. Sanzo stopped, hands folded together and elbows on the table, watching as Goku tried to pick up the food like that. It took him three tries before he finally got some near his mouth only to lose the spicy vegetable as it fell from the sticks, down his shirt and onto the nice cloth underneath the table. "Grrr..."

"Stop. This rug's about the only thing I like in this room and I don't want it smelling like teriyaki. Look." Sanzo lowered the hand holding the chopsticks so Goku could see. "Put one like this so it doesn't move and hold the other like this."

Goku stuck his tongue out, concentrating hard. He copied Sanzo's example, fingers cramping from holding the things. "This is really weird. My hands work better than this!"

"Your hands are also disgusting as hell. Practice a few times with larger pieces before you go trying to tackle rice."

Opening and closing the sticks a couple times to see if it worked, Goku snagged a chunk of carrot carefully. It wobbled a little but didn't fall. "Hey, I've got it! Look, Sanzo!"

"Fucking fantastic," Sanzo replied. He didn't sound at all happy about Goku's accomplishment. Which was fine with Goku, because he was proud of himself.

They finished dinner and after that Sanzo made Goku take a bath. Goku didn't mind, though, because it meant he could just get dirtier tomorrow to make up for it. He got out, shaking his head upside down to get the water out of his long hair and put on the cloths Sanzo had bought for him to wear for bed. He took his magic rock out of his pants pocket and put it in his sleeping shirt pocket to take with him.

When he finally got out of the bathroom, all but one candle was out by the big bed. Goku hesitated, noticing Sanzo wasn't in bed yet. "Sanzo?" he called.

"I'm out here."

Goku followed his voice into the shadows cast from a thin moon, eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. He could see a glass door open, cloth hanging over it blowing back in the cool breeze. The wind brought the smells of the river and the tall pine trees as well as the smoke from fires and the scent of oranges and peaches from the trees. He could see Sanzo out there, leaning over the piece of stone that overlooked the empty place below. He went over, putting his arms up on the bar and resting his head on it, gazing at Sanzo. He looked so different at night. His hair wasn't sunshine bright and his skin was paler, as were his eyes. He looked more like the moon now. Goku wondered if he himself looked different at night, too.

Sanzo looked at him from the corner of his eye, not turning his head. "What?"

"Nothin'. Just tryin' to decide if I like you at night."

That got him to look down, eyebrows forming a tight line over his eyes. "Come again?"

"Well, now you don't look like the sun. You look like the moon. I'm just tryin' to decide if I like it."

Sanzo shook his head. "You're so damn creepy at times. Why are you obsessed with the sun and moon?"

Goku frowned, turning his gaze up to the thing in question. It was at it's tiniest right now. Tomorrow, it would be start to come back, growing bigger and bigger until it got tiny again. The sun never did that. It only changed colors. "I dunno. I guess cuz they were my only friends forever an' ever. I saw them every day. Them an' the clouds an' the stars. I like that star right there a lot." He pointed to the one closest to the moon, the one that would disappear when the moon was really fat.

"According to a story I heard once, that star's supposed to be some Emperor's daughter," Sanzo said, following Goku's finger.

"Really? That's cool! Was she pretty?" Goku leaned forward more, wishing he could fly up and see if it really WAS a girl.

"How the hell should I know? It was just a story," he muttered, lighting a cigarette.

Goku scanned the dark blue sky, taking in the thousands and thousands of stars. "Do all the stars have stories?" he asked, not really expecting Sanzo to answer.

Letting out grey smoke, Sanzo moved pointed up at the sky, moving it to connect certain stars. "That one's a bull. And over there are the seven goddesses."

Goku bounced up and down on his feet, grinning. "I see 'em! Are there more? Show me!"

Sanzo spent the next few hours pointing out the different shapes in the stars, Goku interupting every once in a while to ask questions. It wasn't until the sky started turning grey that Sanzo stopped, sighing a little.

"What's wrong, Sanzo?" Goku asked, worried about his friend. There were dark spots under Sanzo's eyes and he looked suddenly very weak.

"I'm fucking exhausted," Sanzo muttered. "You kept me up all night with this star bullshit."

"Oh...sorry." He felt really awful now. He hadn't meant to make Sanzo weak! He'd just been so excited about the stars having names and stories and pictures that he'd forgotten they'd been up since the night before.

Sanzo's hand touched his head briefly. "Stop moping, it's really annoying. Come on, let's try and get a little sleep before these bald bastards wake up."

Goku followed him back into the room, crawling up on the bed as Sanzo took his robe off, rolling that funny paper up neatly as usual, putting it into a box by the bed instead of under his pillow. He watched as those slender fingers lingered on the box's lid briefly before moving to the belt, pulling it off before removing the leather shirt and sleeves. Goku didn't argue with him about getting out of his pants into sleeping cloths, but scooted away as far as he could, grabbing one of the pillows. " 'Night, Sanzo," he whispered.

"Will you shut up already? I'm fucking beat."


	8. Hakkai 2

I watched as he pulled a worn jean jacket over the long sleeved black shirt, cigarette hanging from his lips. I was starting to get used to the smell of smoke curling in the air. I wasn't fond of it, but it was now a familiar and almost welcome smell. It meant Gojyo was here, and I wasn't alone.

Crimson eyes glanced over at me, a mischievous smile curling thin lips. He winked, tossing his brilliant red hair over his shoulders, letting it fall and settle where it would. The color was the exact shade of blood... like the blood on my hands that wouldn't wash away, no matter how many times they were cleaned. Oh, the blood itself wasn't still there. But the memory of it on my hands remained.

"I'm going out to make some money and buy some food. Miri said you can sit up and go to the bathroom on your own now if you want. There's beer in the fridge if you get thirsty, but you're stuck without food until I get back."

"Alright," I said, watching as the door shut, the cool draft from outside being let in to caress against my cheek. I lay in the bed, unmoving, trying to force myself back to sleep. But, I wasn't tired. Everytime I closed my eyes, the events played themselves out like a horrible play. It was so unreal that I had done so many terrible things... So many lives destroyed, and for what?

"Kanan," I whispered into the growing shadows. The furnace kicked on, the pipes groaning in protest. I could see her if I closed my eyes. Memories of waking up next to her, seeing the sleepy smile as I kissed her cheek. Of her laughing as I ate her burned food. She never could cook, but I didn't care. She was my Kanan. And now... now, even those happy memories were tinged in red. All of them ended the same now, with her dying and me being too weak to stop it. God... why hadn't I known what she was going to do? I should have known all of this was happening! But, I didn't. I didn't know and I wasn't able to save her. I failed at everything, especially my promise to protect her.

My eyes skimmed over the darkness now in the room. I sat up, stretching as far as I could with the stitches in my side to light the candle beside my bed. The electricity had been turned off due to lack of payment on the bill, which is why Gojyo had declared shortly after discovering this that he was going out to make money. I had no clue what job would possibly allow hims to work whenever he felt like it, but didn't argue. He could be an assassin for all I knew, but I was still his guest and he was still caring for me without any reason too. It made me wonder why he would willingly take a stranger in, no questions asked, and make sure they received the best care possible.

The candle light made the room a little brighter, but not much. It was enough to show the adult magazines strewn across the floor still, the empty beer cans that had been used for ashtrays instead of the tray that was overflowing on the table. A pair of boots and several mismatched (not to mention dirty) socks scattered around, a basket full of more dirty laundry by the back door. It was a mess. Years of living in a Catholic orphanage had ingrained tidiness into me. My hand twitched with the urge to get up and clean.

Slowly, I stood up, stitches pulling tight against reddened skin. At least I could get the pornography off the floor and somewhere a little more decent. I gathered up the magazines, a surprising amount actually, stacked them neatly and placed them just under the bed. Looking under the bed revealed an all new level of uncleanliness. "Oh, my God..." I got on my knees, hissing at the pulling of my side, and dug everything out from underneath. Digusting really didn't cover it. Old chicken bones mixed in with shirts, underwear and... "other things". Those "other things" I set aside with the magazines before sorting through all the new found dirt from under the bed.

It was obvious that my savior didn't have the time to clean his house. He must be very busy with his job or something to allow this much deglect to his property. it was just... I sighed. Well, I could never repay him for the life he gave me, but I sure could clean his house! If not for his sake, then for mine. My obsessive compulsive nature was poking it's little head up again.

Once I had everything sorted into piles (Clothing, garbage, adult themed items, and unsure), I put the adult items back under the bed neatly, being mindful to keep them within easy reach for my host. Perhaps if he had some baskets... baskets would do wonders to keep all this organized. There was an old paper bag used for groceries on the floor in the kitchen. Gritting my teeth, I used the bed for leverage to get myself up. It was still a labor even with the added help, and by the time I was up, I was panting, sweating a little and clutching my side. The skin burned and itched a little, but I ignored it, walking into the kitchen. Squatting to retrieve the bag proved to be another challange, one I overcame through more sweat and pain. Despite the hassle, I was proud of myself for accomplishing that small feat.

Returning into the main room, I resumed my position on the floor and stuffed all the trash I could into that bag. It filled that one completely. I sat back, frowning, unsure what to use. I was almost certain he wouldn't have any garbage bags... or would he? Getting to my feet again, this time anticipating the pain and the wheezing, I went back to the kitchen and checked the cupboard under the sink. Cleaning supplies that looked almost full, a dish strainer, rat poison... and garbage bags. I unrolled two of the big bags and brought them out with me. I was sure I wouldn't be able to shake them open, so I just started filling them, trusting the trash to do the work for me.

By the time I was done, there was one full bag by the door and a half filled one in the kitchen. From there, it only made sense to wash off the dirty table top, sort the laundry by color and clean the stove. I fell back on the bed after the stove, too exhausted to move much. Normally, this amount of cleaning wouldn't have been a problem, but I was weak and injured. Still, at least the place looked cleaner than it had been. When I was a little better, I'd tackle scraping the floor clean and possibly the bathroom. The mildew in there had to be older than me.

I woke with a start as the door opened and shut softly. "Gojyo?" It was a woman calling softly. Stretching with difficulty, I struck a match and lit the candle, blinking in the flame.

The woman at the door was the doctor... Miri, I believe was the name Gojyo had given her. "May I help you?" I asked, but she wasn't paying any attention to me.

Her eyes swept the floor, jaw dropping. "Whoa... holy shit! So THAT'S what the floor looks like in here," she joked, pulling a chair up to the bed side. "I just came to check up on you. Late night at the house, otherwise I would have been here sooner."

I smiled politely. "There's no need to explain. I'm grateful you can spare any time at all for me."

A strange look crossed her face before she shook her head. "Very similar..."

"Pardon?" Similar? What was she refering to?

"Gojyo said something similar to that once. It was something more like 'any time you'd give to someone like me is enough.' He's a good guy, Gojyo is."

I laughed, blushing a little. "That goes without saying. It certainly takes a decent type to accept a stranger into their house."

Miri sighed, hand pressed to my forward before moving to my cheek. "He's had a rough time of it. No father, mother dead, living with his youkai step-mother... it's amazing he's turned out like he did. I don't know if you guys have talked at all but... it might be good for the two of you."

I had no words to answer that. How could I? On the one hand, it made my throat close up with unshed tears to know someone MIGHT possibly understand the absolute despair I felt whenever I thought of Kanan. And on the other, I felt like I was betraying him by listening to a conversation he really should have been the one to initiate.

"You've noticed the scars on his cheek?"

Turning back to the doctor, I nodded, not knowing what to say.

"His step-mother gave him those. Used to hate it when I-,"

The door slammed shut and heavy footsteps stormed into the kitchen. Miri jumped, looking guilty over at Gojyo, blinking when the light flickered on. "Electric's back. Played the bastard tonight and since he didn't have money to cover the bet, we agree on this plus next month's utilities too." The words themselves were harmless, but it was obvious from the tight tone that he'd heard us talking.

"Gojyo, I-," Miri began.

He slammed the fridge shut, light catching in the crimson of his eyes. "Don't start, Miri. And who the fuck said you could clean my place? Goddamn... you are such a manipulative bitch!"

"Hey, I didn't-,"

I sat up, guilt eating me that she was taking the brunt of my actions. "I cleaned it, Gojyo. I'm sorry. I was only trying to repay you in some way."

The anger faded from those blazing eyes slowly and a deep sadness was coming to replace it. "Oh... not necessary. Thanks." He returned to putting groceries away.

Sighing again, Miri patted my hand and smiled gently before gathering her stuff up. She set three small bottles on the table. "Start weaning him off the opium, Gojyo. This should last for the next few weeks. Try to get him down to one dose a day."

"Okay. Sorry."

"S'okay. Bye."

"Yeah."

She left quietly, shutting the door without a sound. I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythmic thumping of cupboards opening and shutting. I shouldn't have listened. I shouldn't have cleaned the house. He should have left me to die...

My thoughts were interupted by a chair scraping as it was turned around the wrong way. I opened my eyes, turning to look at him. Gojyo held a take out container of fried noodles to me, as well as chopsticks. "My step-mom was the only mother I ever knew," he said softly, twirling his sticks through the noodles in his own container.

"Gojyo, you don't have to. I don't need to know." It was true. I didn't need to know about his past to know that he was good. And it certainly didn't have to come out like this, a forced explaination brought on by a concerned friend.

"I know... I want to. See, my dad was a bit of a pervy asshole. Slept with a human woman, knocked her up and then two years later found me on his door step. My real mother commited suicide. She'd tried to love her bastard child, but couldn't. All I really remember is her smiling at me before leaving me on the doorstep. It wasn't until later that I learned she'd cut her wrists in the bathtub of our little house.

"My step-mom wasn't exactly thrilled to see me. The first year of my new life was spent in my room listening to them scream at each other. I had an older brother, Jien, and he was pretty cool. Whenever the screaming got really bad, or whenever my dad started hitting my mom, he'd come into my room and try to cover my ears while hugging me. He was only three years older than me and here he was playing the dad." He laughed bitterly, staring at the bowl of noodles with a grim expression.

My heart went out to him. Even in my own grief, I still felt for the boy that was denied the simple happiness of a family to love him. I remained silent, no longer hungry, and waited for him to continue when he was ready.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "It was a summer night. That's all I really remember about it. Mom and dad had a fight, he hit her and then... he was gone. I went down for breakfast in the morning to find mom crying over the sink with Jien rubbing her back. I went over to give her a hug... and she screamed at me. I mean, I can't blame her really... her lousy husband's bastard half-breed child trying to hug her after he just walked out. I guess I had it coming."

"No, you didn't. You were a child. All you knew was that the woman who was supposed to me your mother was in pain." How horrible! I'd always known half-breed children weren't looked well upon by humans. It never occured to me the youkai wouldn't favor them either. of course, now I WAS one of those youkai... I swallowed heavily, trying to force that unpleasantness out. Right now was about Gojyo and his pain.

He gave a slight smile and continued. "After that, it was nothing but tears all the time. Tears and screaming. Only Jien could calm her down enough to slip her some drugs every once and a while. The drugs kept her sane enough to just cry and scream.

"One day, I'd come back from some stupid flower show. I'd bought some kind of flowers for her, thought she'd like how bright they were. And..." His hand flickered up to his cheek, to the scars. He didn't have to say it, I could guess where the story was going. "Jien came back, saw what was happening. I don't really even know how he did it, but suddenly she wasn't screaming."

"Where is your brother now?" I asked, my voice no more than a whisper from my tight throat.

Gojyo lit a cigarette and shrugged. "The fuck if I know. He told me to run, so I ran. Never looked back either." A thin stream of smoke curled into the air, taking on a ghostly shape before trailing to nothing.

Unable to express what I was feeling with words, I opted for touching the hand resting on the chair back. Saying sorry would have been too redundant and too impersonal for the type of story he'd just shared with me.

Crimson eyes glanced at me from under thick dark lashes. "So, you see, everyone's got shit in their closet. Doesn't matter if it's some bastard born half-breed or one of those high-browed sanzo priests, everyone has shit to deal with and hide from." He pulled his hand away, taking a long drag before letting it out and picking one of the empty ashtrays up from the table to take over to the couch. "Damn, you even cleaned the ashtrays. You're fucking crazy!"

I smiled at that, watching him sit down on his make-shift bed to finish his cigarette. I was tired from overexerting myself cleaning and shifted around until I foung the familiar dent in the matress before settling back. And as I drifted into a light sleep, his words came back to me again.

_Everyone has shit to deal with and hide from._

How very true.


	9. ABC's

"Hm hm hmmm... hm hm hmmm..."

Sanzo's fingers tightened around the pen in his hand at the continued irritation. Damn it all... he went back to TRYING to write out a report, deciding that ignoring it would be best. He should have known better than to pretend the annoying wasn't there.

"Hm hmmm hm... hm hm hmmmm..."

Slamming both hands flat against his desk, he snarled, "Will you cut that out? You're about this close to getting thrown out the fucking window!"

Big innocent golden eyes met his, shocked by the sudden outburst. Goku picked his head up off the desk, mouth forming an almost perfect 'O'. He'd come barging in almost three hours ago to ask if he could just sit and watch. Sanzo hadn't seen anything wrong with it, and had told him he wasn't to move, touch or saying anything while he was working. For the first five minutes, everything had been fine. Then, the brat started swinging his legs, kicking the desk with each forward movement. After that came the drumming of the fingers. The humming was the final straw!

"But Sanzo, I'm booooored," Goku whined. "Can we PLEASE go play now?"

"I'm busy. And I don't play. Go find someone else to harass." He tapped his papers into a neat stack before picking up his pen and continuing on with the report. It was due first thing in the morning and he'd just started it when Goku had burst in. He really didn't have any time to spare for distractions.

"I don't know what that means! How can I harass someone if I don't know how?" Goku fired back, pouting.

Sighing and rubbing his eyes, Sanzo said, "Look, I don't have time for you right now. There are plenty of kids around here your age. Why don't you go and try to make friends with them?"

Goku turned away, his cheeks turning a bright pink. He didn't need to see those expressive eyes to know the boy was sad. What the hell was wrong with him? "They don't like me."

"That's bullshit."

"It isn't bullshit, whatever that is!"

Sanzo blinked when _that_ word came from _that_ mouth. Then again, he had no reason to be surprised. He said it a lot, so Goku probably thought it was okay for him to say as well. "You're not old enough to use that word. And what do you mean they don't like you? Have you even TRIED talking to anyone other than me?"

"Yes! I tried talkin' to everybody but they just look at me funny an' walk away. An' I can't play with the other boys cuz they always stop whenever I get the ball or they walk away, too. Sanzo, why doesn't anybody like me?"

There was too much sadness in that voice not to be effected by it. Sighing again, Sanzo started writing. He knew it had been a mistake to bring Goku here. The monks were notoriously cliquey and were mistrustful of anyone with hair that wasn't training for a higher position or already in that position. Goku was an outsider in their little world and no one wanted to take the chance of getting to know him. He'd gone through that very thing growing up in the temple, even under his master's protection.

"Fine," he said quietly, knowing he was going to regret this decision terribly. "Stay here. But remember that I'm working. And when I'm working-,"

"I know, I know. When you're workin', you're not here and I'm not allowed to bother you," Goku finished, flashing a happy grin. "But that's okay cuz just sitting here with you is good, too."

"Hmph, whatever." Goddamn, why was he so creepy at times? A few days ago, Sanzo would have called him a liar for saying that. But Goku really seemed happiest when he could just sit near him. How strange...

"Sanzo?"

Sanzo's hand stopped briefly before it continued on, writing quickly and neatly. "I'm not here, remember?"

"Yes, you are! I can see you an' you just answered me, so you've gotta be here," Goku replied gleefully.

"Goku, what am I doing?"

Goku blinked, smile fading as he took in the papers and Sanzo's pen. "Um... you're drawing a picture! Is that a mountain there?" He leaned forward and put his finger smack dab onto a still damp character.

"DAMN IT! Now it's smudged over!"

Jumping back as Sanzo yanked the paper out from under his hand, Goku crossed his arms over his chest, the angry pout returning. "Sor-ry! I just wanted to see it."

"Well, you can't. This is something for me and me alone. Here, amuse yourself with something else." He slid over some blank paper and an extra pen, hoping to keep the kid occupied with drawing pictures. Having to hangin Goku's creations in his office was a small rpice to pay for peace and quiet.

Goku bounced up and down excitedly and held the pen tightly in his fist, making a big 'V' shape with smaller ones around it. "Look, Sanzo! That's the mountain where you found me an' that's the forest. Now to draw me an' you..."

Sanzo allowed himself a quick little smile. The picture sucked some serious ass, but once again the brat melted the anger away like sugar in water. It bothered him a little that Goku held such a sway on his emotions... but he didn't feel like fighting it. What was the point, really? With Goku settled in making his picture, Sanzo returned to his reports, painstakingly writing down every minute detail he could think of concerning his last trip. He'd been gone a week and came back to find the temple in an uproar because of Goku. No one had a true complaint about him. All they said was he ate a lot and talked a lot. There was no crime there. As far as he was concerned, they could all get bent!

He didn't look up when he felt a certain golden gaze watching him before looking away. Goku's hand moved quickly on his paper, stopped as he looked up, and then scribbled again. This happened several times before Sanzo finally did pause (AGAIN) in the report to see what the hell he was up to. His eyebrows rose a little when he saw Goku's paper was covered in characters, all of them copied from the report. Goku was mimicking him. There was one small problem though...

"Idiot, you're writing it all upside down."

"Huh?" Goku blinked, looking from his paper to Sanzo's and back again. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it is." Sanzo argued. Goku was copying what he put down alright... but it was a mirror image so everything was upside down.

Goku shook his head stubbornly. "Nu-uh! See? It's just like yours!"

Gritting his teeth, Sanzo said, "Look, it's upside down because I said so. Get over here, and bring your chair."

Doing as he was told, the boy slid the chair along the hard wood floor until he was right alongside Sanzo.

Sanzo pulled out two new pieces of paper, placing one in front of Goku and one in front of himself. "Don'tcha have work?"

"Screw that! It's about time you learned how to read and write anyway. Now, watch but don't copy it yet, okay?" He quickly wrote out the characters onto the paper, making sure all the lines were perfect and dark enough to be noticeable. Goku watched curiously, sitting up in his chair and peering over Sanzo's shoulder curiously. When he was done, he slid the paper over to Goku.

"These are called letters," he explained. "Letters make words. Think of letters as a way of drawing words."

"But... I just drew a mountain an' a forest. Is that a letter?"

"No, that's a drawing. Look... " Sanzo drew two characters underneath the tables. "This is how you'd write your name."

"Wait... that's 'Goku'?" he demanded, leaning over far enough that he was almost in Sanzo's lap.

Sanzo shoved him back roughly. "Stay on your own side, monkey! And yes, that's it. Think of this as a way of saying your name without using your voice."

"Yeah, cuz i'm using pictures, right?" Goku asked eagerly. He was still holding his pen in a tight fist.

Glaring at that, Sanzo pried it from his fingers and repositioned it so that it was held correctly. "That's how you hold a pen."

"It feels funny... but it's not a good funny. I don't like it!"

"Tough shit, that's how you're going to hold it if you want to write." Wishing to the gods he had some medicine for the awful headache now surfacing, Sanzo continued with the lesson. "Each of these letters has a sound connected with it. These sounds form words. Look at your name. This one is 'go' and this one is 'ku'. Together they spell your name."

"Ooo... neat! Can you show me yours?"

He wrote his name out, sitting back so Goku could see it.

"That's what your name looks like?"

"That's what my name looks like," he confirmed. Sitting forward again, he wrote out another word. "This one's is going to be your favorite thing in the world."

"What is it?"

"That's 'food'."

Goku grinned and laughed before sticking his tongue out. "You're so stupid! That's not my favorite thing!"

Sanzo bristled at being called stupid by someone who couldn't even spell their own name, but checked it back. After all, the kid had been locked away for five hundred years. "Then what is?"

Fingers wobbling as they struggled to hold onto the pen, Goku wrote something on his own paper. "See? 'Sanzo'. That's my favorite!"

"You're so weird. Here, what I want you to do is practice writing the letters. As you go, I'll tell you what sound each letter represents."

"Okay!"

By the end of the day, Sanzo was exhausted to the point where his eyes burned. However, oddly enough, he felt good. Goku had picked up fast and was now writing simple sentences. They'd been so wrapped up in the task they'd ignored the summons that dinner was ready. It had shocked him no end when Goku hadn't bolted from the room to stuff his face. He was really anxious to learn everything!

Sanzo finally stretched out his fingers, putting a hand over Goku's to get him to stop writing. "That's it for today. If you want, we can continue tomorrow."

'Really? Great! I really like letters an' writin' stuff!" He was surprised again by the quick hug Goku locked him in before the boy jumped up and ran for their room. "I'm gonna go to bed now an' let you finish working! G'night!"

Gritting his teeth and wadding up the paper on his desk, he threw it on the floor angrily before raking his fingers through his hair. Son of a bitch... now he'd be up all night writing that goddamn report!

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In case anyone was curious about the use of letter tables, Sanzo was teaching Goku to write in Japanese. Yeah, yeah, the story takes place in China, but I'm not taking Chinese at the moment so it HAD to be Japanese. So THERE!


	10. Gojyo 3

I about spit my sukiyaki across the table, choking on what did remain in my mouth as it slid down my throat and got stuck. Miri was chuckling across the table and my nameless guest was trying to pound on my back. "Gojyo, do you need some water?" he asked worriedly.

I shook my head, tears dripping from the corners of my eyes. I couldn't believe Miri would even JOKE about something like that! Me, get married and settle down with kids? I'd rather join a temple and shave my damn head! And the evil wench was still laughing her head off as I was dying from dinner. Some healer, I thought to myself, glaring at her.

"Aww... but you're so cute with Aiko," Miri finally got out.

"Yeah...ahem... because she's YOUR kid! She goes home with you!" Aiko was Miri's three year old daughter. The cutest damn thing in the world, too. She's the only girl to have ever given me flowers. Daisies, I think, big white ones with yellow centers. Funny how I could remember stupid shit like that but I couldn't begin to tell you when trash day was!

"I don't see why that's such a bad thing," Green Eyes said. I'd started calling him that to myself after the first two weeks of having him in my house with no name. Both Miri and I looked at him closely. He had that same wistful-sad tone to his voice that we'd heard when it had been raining out. He'd started off sitting near the window when Miri came in to check on him. Then he'd started talking about how the rain really wasn't the gift everyone thought it was, whatever that was supposed to mean. And then it ended with me drugging his tea because he was near hysterical.

I had no idea why the rain would effect him like that. Whatever happened had left deeper scars than the physical wounds. Even now, with the dark clouds moving on, he would get this look in his eyes like he was about to give up and just let Hell claim him. My eyes flicked down to where he was once again feeling the broken watch in his pant pocket. That was what had set him off to begin with. Miri had offered to take it and get it fixed. He'd slapped her hand away and shouted that it would never be fixed, that it was meant to be like that. Green Eyes instantly apologized when he realized he'd almost hurt her. I'd already mixed a little opium in with his tea, but I went ahead and dumped some more in, not really measuring. Let him sleep the rest of the storm out!

That watch was important to him, I knew that. I just didn't know why. Whatever it was, it was killing him. It didn't matter that his body was healed. This guy was the type to die from a broken heart or something. And it had to be a broken heart. Why else call out for the same woman over and over again? I wanted to ask him about Kanan, force him to get it out and off his chest but... it wasn't my business. When Green Eyes wanted to spill, he would. Sighing, I pushed a stray piece of hair back out of my face, stubbing out my cigarette. Honestly, what the hell was the point of tying your hair back when it always got free anyway? Goddamn it... maybe I should just cut my hair clean off! I smiled to myself when I thought of shaving my head completely bald. All the ladies would think I'd gone and joined the ranks of cockless morons in the temple in the mountains. What was it called again... heh, screw it! It wasn't important.

What WAS important was Green Eyes. He had the glassy, distant look in his eyes that said we needed to throw him a rope and fast. Otherwise, he was going to sink down in the memories and never come back up. "You know... I just thought of something," Miri said a little more loudly than necessary. I rolled my eyes and got a wink back. Green Eyes blinked and looked up, a quick smile hiding what was underneath. Damn... it was kind of creepy to see that happen. He was still very new at hiding the pain, but the fact that he chose a smile for his mask... yeah, creepy was the word for it.

"What'd you think of?" I asked, playing along.

"Well, Heito works all day at the mill," she continued, gathering the plates up. She waved Green Eyes make with a flick of fingers as he started to get up and help her. "You stay seated! Anyway, he works all day and with all these recent attacks in the area, I'm getting called out more and more. I can't take Aiko with me, and Heito can't take her with him. Would you mind terribly, Gojyo, if I brought her over here to keep your guest company?"

Ooooh... I shrugged, using the excuse of lighting another cigarette to hide the smirk on my lips. Clever woman... she'd picked up on the fact that Green Eyes liked the idea of kids! "Doesn't bother me just so long as she leaves Uncle Gojyo's shit where it is."

"Maybe if 'Uncle Gojyo' weren't such a complete slob we wouldn't have to worry about that," she fired back.

I rolled my eyes again and Green Eyes smiled. "OW! Damn it all, this is my house and I won't be bitch slapped by you in it," I shouted when Miri gave the back of my head a sharp crack.

"Then you shouldn't go rolling your eyes at me," she replied with a smile, leaning around to take my empty beer cans. How did she DO that? There was no reflection for her to see this time! "So, what do you think?"

Both of us looked at her, unsure which one she was talking to. I motioned to Green Eyes and swallowed a little, eyes wide. "Um... while I don't really have any objections to it, I-,"

"Good! I've got to make some runs tomorrow. Heito gets done with work about eight or so, sometimes he's late. I won't be home at all tomorrow night. Gojyo, if I left some money, would you mind feeding her?"

"Yeah, no problem."

"NOT ramen!"

I glared at her and took a hit to keep from reminding her that ramen was the shit and that it was all a growing girl would need. "I'll get us some meatbuns or something. You like meatbuns?"

Green Eyes gave me a real smile, one that reached those dead eyes, even if it was only brief. "That's perfectly fine with me. And perhaps you should get something other than beer to drink? After all, she IS only a child. Oh, how old is she, Miri?"

Miri's grin was dripping with motherly pride. "She's three and very smart for her age. And when you see her with Gojyo, you'll understand why he'd make such a great dad!"

I flicked her off, shaking my head. "Wench just doesn't know when to quit," I muttered. But, as I met her eyes, a smile tugging at my lips, I couldn't help but wonder about that. Me, as a dad? It was physically impossible. Half-breeds like myself couldn't reproduce. No biggie, that only meant more fun, right? But, sometimes when I'd see Miri out with Aiko or some other happy family, it made me kind of wish I'd been born different. You know, a loving family and all that shit. Maybe if things had been different back then, I wouldn't have the lifestyle that I did... Nah! I liked the way things were, and hoped like hell they stayed like this! Poor as shit, and proud of it, that's me.

"She looks like her dad," Miri continued, turning her glowing smile to Green Eyes.

"She's got your eyes though, Miri," I countered. Saying Aiko looked like her ox of a dad... so mean! When that little girl grew up, she was going to have boys circling the block just to see her smile. And I'd be one of the people there to scare them away. Heito wasn't extremely comfortable with me, given my past history with his wife, but he was cool enough to know we were just friends. Even when we were together, it was more a friends thing.

"And maybe when you're better, we can get you some nice clothing, not that crap Gojyo wears, and find you a pretty girl somewhere."

I covered my eyes with one hand and finished off the cigarette burning away. Damn it... she just HAD to go and open her fucking mouth! A chair scraping against the floor made me look up. Green Eyes wasn't even bothering to try and smile. "Excuse me, I'm very tired now," he said softly before leaving the table. Miri stared after him, confused by his sudden change of mood.

"Uh... okay," she said slowly, getting up as well. Her medicine bag was sitting on the floor by her chair. She picked it up and started walking for the door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight. And thank you for everything. Dinner was delicious." This was all said in the same flat tone as he stretched out on his back in my bed, turning his face away from us.

I walked Miri to the door, shutting it after the both of us so that he couldn't hear. "Yeah, bad timing, Miri," I muttered. How was it she could be so blind? Doctors were supposed to be compassionate. She was about the last THING from from that!

"Gojyo, don't be ridiculous," she hissed back angrily. "What he needs is to get over the loss by dating someone else right away. Rebound and jump back in!"

"Miri... he's not gonna 'get over' anything. He's a lost cause." I knew that type of pain. It was the same kind that kept me from actually going through with the plan of settling down and adopting kids. It was the fear of the past. Whatever had happened was haunting him and would continue to haunt him until he died. No amount of dating would fix this particular broken heart. It wasn't only shattered, but burned, staked, pounded and turned into ground meat. There was no way it was going to be put back together.

"How can you say that?" Miri railed. "Look, there's this really nice girl in the next town and-,"

"Trust me, Miri. He'll smile, he'll be kind, but she'll be going home still a virgin." I rubbed my eyes. This was pointless. She wasn't going to say she was wrong. It wasn't fucking possible for her to admit that. "What time are you sending Aiko over?" A change of subject was always a good thing in awkward situations.

"Seven," Miri muttered. "And I'm serious, no ramen." This was called back over her shoulder.

I smiled and shook my head. Just as easily as we fought, we made up. Yeah, our relationship had problems, but we were both relaxed enough to let most thing slide. Still glad Heito was the one who had to deal with her on a constant basis, though! I went back inside, shutting and locking the door. The bed creaked and I just barely caught him wiping his eyes before he turned a smile to me. Too bad the whites were all red, though. Otherwise, I would have bought it.

"Gojyo..."

I went over, kicking my boots off into the middle of the floor. Turning my usual chair around for our usual pre-bedtime conversation, I just met his gaze and held it. If his eyes shifted, mine did, too. I wasn't going to let him go that easily. "Look at me," I said quietly. "I get it. And guess what? If you wanna cry, nobody's gonna judge you. So just do it and don't try to hide it. Hiding it's only going to make it hurt more."

Emerald eyes widened a touch before closing tightly, lashes a dark smudge to his pal cheeks. If it weren't for the little side lamp still being on, I wouldn't have noticed the thin trickle of tears finally breaking down his cheeks. He didn't make a sound, no sobbing or screaming, or any of that other bullshit a lot of people did for funerals. He simply placed an arm over his eyes and cried silently, shoulders shaking a little.

And I just let him. That was all I could do, anyway.


	11. Karma

**Karma**

Goku stumbled and fell when someone shoved him roughly from behind. His knees scraped agains the ground and his palms stung from the impact as well. Gritting his teeth, he looked over his shoulder at the snickering boys behind him. "Hey... you did that on purpose. That's very mean of you!"

The group of four boys started laughing louder, the one who'd shoved him stepping forward, arms crossed over his chest. "Oh, yeah? Prove it! I didn't do anything, right, guys?"

The other agreed, still grinning and laughing as Goku started to get up.

"Did I say you could get up, you disgusting little beast?" Someone's hand pressed between his shoulders, trying to force him down.

Snarling, Goku grabbed the wrist and yanked hard, flinging the boy over his shoulder. "Leave me alone, wouldja? Why are you so mean?"

The boy screamed , clutching his arm awkwardly to his chest. The other boys were rushing away, calling for someone to help. His wrist was held all funny and he kept screaming how much it hurt. Oops... "I'm sorry! I didn't mean ta hurt you!" Goku crawled over, not sure what to do. He didn't want to hurt the boy. He just didn't want him teasing him or shoving him or laughing at him anymore! He hadn't meant to... Sanzo was gonna be so angry! That thought was more worse than the boy being hurt. Sanzo angry... he didn't want to make Sanzo angry!

Goku stood up, sniffling and staring down at the still screaming boy. Monks were running over... and he could see Sanzo's golden hair easily. Oh, no! Wiping his nose, he mumbled a final, "I'm sorry," before running for the gates as fast as he could. He heard Sanzo shouting for him to stop, but he didn't. He didn't want to see those eyes get angry because of him. This was the worst thing he'd ever done. It was worse than drawing on the walls (he thought one of the pretty pictures needed more flowers). It was worse than bringing the cat into the temple (Sanzo had been really sick and the monks scrubbed the place for a week). It was even more worse than when he'd tried to start a bath for himself and it had flooded everywhere (he'd been hungry and forgot that it was running and plugged).

What if Sanzo told him to leave? What if this time Sanzo was so mad he locked him back in that prison? He couldn't stand that! It was bad enough before, but now that he had his sun, it would be death to go back. He'd rather run away than risk Sanzo locking him back up! So, goku ran and ran, tripping over something and getting back up to run some more. He had no idea where he was going, but anywhere that Sanzo couldn't find him and tell him to leave was good!

* * *

Sanzo stared after Goku as the boy sprinted away. What the hell had gotten into him? He didn't even look back when he'd called him! And he wasn't getting much help from the thought impressions, either. Jumbled emotions, most of them guilty and afraid. His name repeated with different tones to it. Monkey thoughts... and noise. That's all it was until Goku could calm himself down to think clearly. Whatever happened had the boy scared shitless of something. The only way to find out was to ask.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to keep his annoyance more checked, Sanzo went over to the still howling Raeko on the ground. Pathetic... Two older monks were trying to calm him down while a third was attempting to pry his arm away from his chest. This was such bullshit! "Cut it out, the little idiot's faking," he cut in over the screaming.

Raeko stopped, dulling down to a mere whimper and sniffling. The two monks beside him looked at the boy in shock. Whispers began to circle around him, some of them angry others astonished.

"What makes you say that, Master?" a voice called behind him.

Sanzo met the Raeko's round eyes and held them. He refused to let the boy look away as he said, "He was favoring the other arm when all this started. He's lying."

The monk examining Raeko grabbed his wrists and pulled them out. Nothing, not even a bruise. Raeko began to shake, still staring at Sanzo.

"You little... what should his punishment be, Master Sanzo?"

Pulling out his cigarettes, he lit one to relieve the headache that was begging to explode from his head. "How the fuck should I know? Break both his arms to teach him a lesson for all I care," he replied sarcastically. The one he was concerned about was off somewhere being a stupid monkey. He turned and left, using the utterly chaotic noise Goku was putting off as a way of tracking him. There was only one way to shut up a chattering monkey as far as he was concerned. The paper fan slapped against his leg under his robes, and it made him smile in anticipation of slapping it into Goku's head. Little brat thought he could run and hide, did he? He was soon going to learn otherwise!

_Sanzo... hates me... don't wanna go back... too dark... no sun, no... no Sanzo... too dark... don't wanna go back... please don't send me back, Sanzo!_

The absolute agony as those words broke through the confusion nearly brought him to his knees. "Fucking HELL!" Sanzo hissed in a sharp breath as he tried to push the raging torrent of confusion, fear, sorrow and despari back down. Such raw anguish... he hadn't actually felt anything like this since... no, thinking about that wasn't going to help! He needed to focus on Goku and finding him before something happened. What the hell was this kid going on about, anyway? Send him back where? Did he think...

Finally regaining control through deep breathing techniques, Sanzo stood upright and continued walking, his intent changing with each step. First, he'd smack the kid to get him to shut up. Then... he wasn't sure what. It was becoming more and more obvious as he picked up the pace, shoving through the forest that Goku had so obviously gone through (the branches were all kinds of bent up... plus he could hear him crying) that the boy thought he was going to be returned to his prison. And he thought Sanzo would be the one to do it. Dumb ape! As if he'd send shit back to that hole in the ground!

As the sobbing grew louder, the anger inside began to melt away to something else. He wasn't exactly sure what, but he no longer wanted to hit Goku. Something inside him wanted to try and protect him from whatever frightened him, help him get stronger so stupid shit like this wouldn't hurt him. Was this what his master had felt for him? There was no way of knowing or asking now... but it was a bittersweet thought to cling to. And it was one that took him those last few steps over to Goku's side, the fan still hidden away. He could always hit him later.

* * *

Goku tightened his arms around his knees, face still buried against his legs as he continued to cry. He was sitting on a log in the middle of a forest and he was all alone. Maybe he could just stay here and not bother anyone. That way he wouldn't be locked away without the sun... without Sanzo... "Sanzo... please don't put me back!"

"Who said anything about putting you back?"

Goku jumped at the voice, scurrying back... and falling over the log with a hard thud. Sanzo stood over him, the sunlight washing behind him and catching his hair to make it glow. Just like at the prison... "B-But that boy... he's really hurt an' I'm the one who..."

"You idiot. Raeko probably had it coming, even if you DID actually manage to hurt him."

Wait... "You mean that..."

"He's fine. He was never hurt, and if you hadn't run away you would have known that sooner. Not to mention saved me the trouble of tracking your ass down."

Goku couldn't see his face with the way the light fell, and even if the words were angry... he didn't think Sanzo actually was. Not at him anyway. All the fears and doubts began to wash away when that voice said words he was sure would never leave Sanzo's mouth.

_I took you out of the darkness. And I'll be damned before I see you returned to it. Never doubt that when it's dark, I'll be there._

Wiping his eyes, Goku smiled and then began to laugh, all while new tears fell down his cheeks.

Sanzo shifted a little, the light catching over his confused face. "Hey, what's so damn funny?"

"Nothin', just... I dunno. You make me happy!"

Snorting, the monk held a hand out to Goku. "Come on. You're hungry, right?"

"Starvin'! How'd you know?"

"If you're not shitting, sleeping or getting into trouble, you're hungry. Lucky guess."

It took Goku a second to realize Sanzo was insulting him and when he did, he jerked his hand free angrily, glaring up as violet eyes glanced down. "You're being a poop-face!"

"Excuse me?"

Goku stuck his tongue out... and then was wailing when Sanzo smacked his head, causing him to bite his own tongue. "Ow..."

"You dumb shit! You're lucky that's all I'm going to do to you!" Goku looked up, worried that maybe he'd really hurt Sanzo's feelings.

But all that went away when Sanzo held his hand out again without a glance to see if Goku would take it. Grinning, despite his sore tongue, Goku reclaimed the larger hand with his, practically skipping next to the taller man. Sanzo wasn't gonna send him back! He wasn't ever, EVER gonna send him back! More than anything, that knowledge right there was the most wonderful in the world to him. He didn't care if he never learned another word or number again just so long as he could be with Sanzo!

When they got back to the temple, everything was in an uproar. Monks were running around, shouting for Sanzo and other things. And someone was screaming from inside the temple itself. Goku winced and cowered closer to Sanzo. He knew that scream. "Sanzo, I thought you said he wasn't hurt?"

"Not when I left," Sanzo snarled, eyes snapping furiously. He grabbed the nearest monk by the robe and hauled the guy back. "You didn't actually break his arms, did you?" he demanded.

Break his... Goku's eyes widened. Sanzo told them to break the boy's ARMS? He wouldn't! Not Sanzo... wait, maybe he would...

"W-We were about to, Master Sanzo," the monk stammered. "B-But, he ran a-a-away! He tripped over a garden hoe, fell down the hill out back... and the gods did the work themselves!"

Sanzo's eyebrows went up and he released the monk who very quickly ran away. "No shit," he muttered. "Karma really is an angry bitch."

Goku and Sanzo both winced at the blood curdling scream that broke through the air. Whatever Karma was, Goku really didn't want it to get him. It didn't sound very fun at all!


	12. Hakkai 3

This was a little uncomfortable.

No, let me rephrase. This was just simply the most awkward position I'd ever found myself in to date.

Round cinnamon-brown eyes gaped at me from under tossled black curls. One chubby finger was between tiny lips and being sucked at like her life depended on it. And her proud mother was bustling around the small house, setting up things for me to watch the small person with... who was watching me intently. Oh, God...

"Now, Gojyo, I've got chopped carrots here, and some chicken strips. All you have to do is throw the chicken into the oven for about five minutes, okay?" Miri called over.

Gojyo was still asleep on the couch. He'd woken long enough to shout at Miri for coming by at four in the morning, ruffle Aiko's curls and then drop himself bonelessly onto the couch. Right now, the only thing I could see from my angle was his foot. "Unh..."

Miri, eyes crackling, went over and slapped his foot playfully. "Gojyo! I'm serious, no candy for dinner! Last time that happened Heito and I were up all night with her."

"Yeah, yeah... she likes chocolate better anyway," he mumbled, quickly tucking his foot down.

I heard the exchange, but I was still staring at the little girl in front of me. Who continued to stare at me. It wasn't the staring that was awkward. I'd taught children her age for a few years, so it was actually quite common to have a Starer or two in the class. It was herself that was making things so awkward. There was nothing she could do about that. She just... Kanan had wanted a daughter first. Granted, Aiko wouldn't have looked a thing like one of our children, but it still brought that painful feeling to think about it.

A heavy sigh and Miri dropping down next to her daughter made my gaze waiver. Not Aiko's. She still stared at me and sucked at her finger. "Okay, Aiko, mama's leaving now. Uncle Gojyo and his friend are going to take care of you until daddy's home. Don't let Uncle Gojyo cheat at cards, and make sure you're extra polite with his friend, okay?"

The girl nodded, curls bobbing around her face. She was still in her pajamas and clinging to a stuffed dog that had seen better days. Miri smiled and kissed her cheek. "Heito will come right over and pick her up. She gets a nap around one, and there's a cup with juice in the fridge for her. Have fun!"

Muttered growls and grumbling issued from the mass on the couch. Once the door was shut, Gojyo sat up, bleary eyed with his hair tangled. He scratched his head, blinking a little. After an enormous yawn, he called in a thick voice, "Where's my girlfriend at? Don't I get a hug or anything?"

Aiko finally stopped staring at me to giggle and run over to Gojyo. She threw herself into his arms, letting him sit her across his lap. "I'm not your girlfriend," she exclaimed.

"Says who?"

"Me! Today I'm a panda!"

Gojyo arched a brow and smiled back at the girl sitting on his lap. "No fake? You look like a panda today, too! Hey, what happened to Dod's ear?"

Aiko looked down at her stuffed dog sadly, fingering the tear in the head. "Oh... he got in a fight. The dragon ate his ear. I was a princess yesterday!"

"Wow! So yesterday, you were a princess, and today you're a panda."

She nodded firmly, tiny fingers pulling on a section of his hair. "And you're a lion!"

Gojyo made a face at her, causing her to giggle again. "Yeah, well, this lion's pretty sleepy now. How 'bout you, panda?"

She nodded again, pushing a finger against his nose.

"Cool. So maybe we should go back to sleep?" He layed back against the sofa, fixing the pillow under his head.

Aiko pushed off his lap and ran back over in front of me, staring just as she had been before. I stared right back.

"Oi! I thought you were sleepy," Gojyo exclaimed, sitting up again slightly.

"Yes, but I wanna sleep here," Aiko announced. I don't remember clearly, but I'm pretty certain I cringed at that.

"Well, you can't. He's very sick and should be left alone."

She didn't budge. She continued to stand and stare, finger back in her mouth. Dear God... I forced a smile and moved over. What was I to do? It was obvious she wasn't budging, and if we both went to sleep and left her to her own devises, who could say what would happen? Aiko smiled and jumped into bed, crawling under the covers.

A sigh came from the couch. "You two play nice. And just remember she's MY girlfriend- oops! I mean, panda." He quickly corrected himself at the angry scowl flung at him.

The clock ticked and for the longest time it was the only sound in the room. Then, Gojyo's light snores joined it, a steady rythme of its own. I stared up at the ceiling. Aiko stared at me. Why on earth did I let her climb in bed with me? I shifted a little, as much as the raw tissues in my side would let me. The only movement out of her was the rise and fall of her chest and the occassional blinking of her eyes. There was no way I could sleep like this. I finally turned to regard her. She still had that wide-eyed look on her face, but her finger wasn't in her mouth.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked as pleasantly, and quietly, as I could.

Aiko shook her head no.

"Ah." Okay, next tactic; a question that doesn't involve a 'yes' or 'no' answer. "Why are you staring at me?"

She sat up on her knees, peering over my face. I flinched as tiny fingers pushed my hair back and held it while her other hand traced the contours of my face. Over my eyes, down my nose, across my lips. Needless to say, it was extremely uncomfortable. "You're just as beeau-tee-ful as mama said."

"Oh?" The one word sounded choked and hoarse. Kanan had often said that. I'd only thought it was because she loved me. I was in no way the classic example of handsome. I wasn't very muscular, needed glasses to read... I was the one other kids would have picked on if they weren't intimidated by me. But now, this little girl, albeit at her mother's suggestion, was saying I was beautiful? If only she knew about the many, many ugly things I'd done

Aiko nodded again. "Yup. But I don't agree all the way. Know why?"

I shook my head, the lump weighing so heavily in my throat I could have suffocated with it.

" 'Cuz she says your eyes are the prettiest part of your face. I don't like 'em. Know why?"

Again, all I could do is shake my head.

" 'Cuz they're too sad. You shouldn't be sad, mister, not ever. Well, okay, maybe a little. But my daddy always says when you smile, it should show here," she touched my lips. "And here," her fingers traced over my eyebrows. " 'Cuz then everyone knows you're happy!"

"Yes," I answered, voice barely audible. "Your daddy's right. But when you have no reason to be happy, it makes smiling very difficult."

She pondered this for some time before smiling herself and giggling. "You're silly! You should be really, REALLY happy!"

She was a child, I reminded myself. She had no idea what she was saying or how badly it cut into me. "And why should I be really, REALLY happy?"

" 'Cuz you live with Uncle Gojyo. And he gives you chocolate and boo-boo kisses when you feel bad."

I really didn't have the heart to tell her that I doubted 'Uncle' Gojyo would give me boo-boo kisses for any amount of money in the world. Instead, I smiled and looked out the open window at the full moon just beginning to disappear in the wake of a cold sunrise. Such innocence... It was something I longed for again. The simpleness of a life with someone to love. I'd always known fairy tales weren't real. Why would I expect our lives together to be any different?

A little hand curled under my chin and turned me back to face her again. She had such a rapturous look on her face it was almost infectious. "See? THAT'S how you're supposed to smile! Hey, let's play when it's morning time, okay? Mama brought toys over for us!"

I smiled again. "Okay." I agreed, but it wasn't heart-felt. Until Gojyo went out, he'd be responsible for her. Aiko curled up next to me, her head tucked under my chin. It wasn't long before she was asleep, her hand curling around my neck while her stuffed dog was forgotten on the floor. The pain at her words instantly returned. I had no reason to smile, not anymore. Kanan was everything and more to me. How could I smile when I'd lost so much? And yet, even as these familiar thoughts entered my head, the usual tears didn't follow. For the first time since that night, I didn't fall asleep with tears cooling against my cheeks.


	13. Waiting For Morning

Waiting For Morning

Ivory robes flowed and moved like an angry current, looking almost pale grey in the extreme early morning light. As he forced himself to walk quickly, without running, monks started to bow quickly and get out of his way. Sanzo's teeth were clenched so tightly it hurt. The monk in front of him kept looking back nervously, sweat slicking his bald head. He looked as if he expected Sanzo to put a bullet right into his head. And in some ways, he was right about that. Sanzo wanted nothing better than to take his concern out on the hapless monk.

That wasn't a possibility, though. It wasn't the man's fault for what happened. He'd returned just five minutes ago to find the temple in a panic. Nothing surprising there. What HAD surprised him was the black quarantine flag they'd raised and when five or six monks tried to bar his entrance. That had pissed him off... and made him worried. The black flag meant plague. There hadn't been an outbreak of that in over five years. The villages surrounding the temple were all fine. No smoke from fires, no smell of burning flesh. Nothing to suggest a plague was spreading.

So after shoving his way through the monks at the entrance, he'd immediately found the clerk abbot. Basically, his personal assistant. Fortunately, he didn't have to look very long. Suoh had heard the commotion at the gates and assumed it was him. He'd met Sanzo half way down the hall and was now babbling worriedly.

"I sent messengers out searching for you, Master," he explained again. "I knew you would have hurried back immediately. Thank the gods you have!"

"Explain to me again what happened," Sanzo replied, managing to keep the emotion from his voice. The minute he'd been told he'd ordered Suoh to take him to the place.

"The suddeness of the the onslaught is what made us suspicious at first. Then the loss of apetite, which is extremely unusual for him. After that, sweating while complaining he was cold, delirium, a hacking cough, wheezing breath."

"It could be a cold."

Suoh didn't respond to this. He was keeping his mouth shut and letting Sanzo believe what he wanted. Smart man. There was a reason Suoh was named clerk abbot over someone with more experience.

Sanzo paused as the man unlocked the door leading to the lower storage rooms. These rooms were only used in the winter time and were now empty with the spring weather on them. Someone had strung another black flag on the wall by the door. Pathetic fools! As if a piece of material would keep the plague in. Suoh opened the door, holding it briefly before moving down the stairs, grabbing a torch from the wall. "This way, Master. I thought it best to put him in the store rooms because of how dry they are. If his lungs are building fluids, a dry atmosphere should help."

"And who put him down here?"

Suoh stopped about twenty feet from the door and pointed. Two servants stood outside the door, looking for all the world like they were ready to piss themselves senseless. Sanzo started forward and, out of reflex more than anything, the two abased themselves to the ground, as low as they could get while still on their knees. He ignored them, peering through the bars into the darkness. He could just make out the straw mat on the floor and a tiny figure all curled up on it. A rattling cough echoed through the room, followed by a groan.

"Suoh?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Bring down an extra mat, blankets, warm water and rags, some broth and bread. And my cigarettes."

"Master! Surely you're not going in there!"

Sanzo didn't spare him another glance. His hand went to the door knob, turning it.

"Master? Master Sanzo! If it's plague, then-,"

"Save it, I'm not interested. Get what I asked for and leave it here for the servants to bring in. Then send for the doctor immediately, tell him he might have four plague patients."

"Four?"

This time Sanzo did turn enough to give him a cold glare. "Him, me, and these two right here. That's for or I'm a monkey. Get moving."

Suoh bowed and scrambled back up the stairs, shouting for the required items at the top of his lungs. Sanzo allowed himself a smile before going in to the darkened room.

"Master, you might need this," the servant to his right said, carefully still keeping himself prostrated while motioning to the torch beside him.

"Probably will. Need to make sure I smack him in the head and not on the ass. Not that there's much difference." The servant quickly turned a chuckle into a cough. Usually, the servants weren't as brazen as this one. Don't speak unless you're spoken to seemed to be their motto. Sanzo grabbed the torch and went in, shutting the door firmly behind him. "When everything I asked for is here, bring it in and then go."

"Yes, Master," they both said softly.

Sanzo found a wall bracket for the torch before walking over to the boy sleeping on the mat. Long brown hair was matted and damp with sweat. Little legs were curled into his chest, which was rising and falling awkwardly. Kneeling down on the dirt floor, Sanzo pushed the thick hair out of tightly closed eyes, hand moving further down to the chest as he gave another cough. He could hear in that sound that there was indeed fluid build up. It probably wasn't best to be giving him fluid to eat, but that was about all his stomach could handle right then.

Sighing, Sanzo shook his head. "You really got yourself into a mess now, didn't you, Goku?"

The only response was a wheezing inhale followed by more coughing and moaning.

* * *

The entire temple was high on nerves. Master Genjyo Sanzo was below and could very well be ill with plague. Suoh was frantically shouting orders for more hot water, fresh towels, more bread... and where in Buddha's name was the doctor? Chants had already been started, praying that their master would be alright. The boy was of no consequence to anyone but Master Sanzo. Many of the higher monks actually hoped the boy would perhaps die. But to have a sanzo priest die in their temple? The shame of it was unthinkable!

As all this was going on above, Sanzo shoved the extra mat snugly against Goku's, ccovering it over with one of the blankets. The others he used as a way of propping the boy up. The fluids had to drain downward, he knew that much. By lying flat, they filled the lungs faster. He wrung out one of the rags in the water, pressing it to Goku's sweaty, dirty face.

"Master?" Suoh called from his twenty-foot safety distance.

"What?" he called back, all his other attention on the boy struggling through this illness.

"We just heard word from the doctor. At best, he'll be here early tomorrow morning."

Son of a bitch! Sanzo bit back his annoyance and said, "Fine, whatever. Just make sure he hauls ass getting down here. If Goku dies because he stops off for pancakes and coffee, he'll wish to the gods he'd never been born."

He could hear Suoh gulp from where sat. "Of course, Master. I'll got set a watch for the doctor."

Sanzo crushed the cigarette he'd been preparing to light angrily, watching the flakes of tobbacco hit the floor. He would never say it outloud, but he was starting to get very worried. Goku hadn't moved more than it took for him to cough, moan, shift about restlessly and breathe. The stillness between these bouts was almost worse than when he did move. Sanzo took the now cold compress from the boy's head, switching it out for the hot one he'd just wrung out. he'd heard somewhere about sweating a fever out of a person. Of course, there was also an old wives' tale about putting a piece of copper under the tongue to stop a cough. He was hoping this one actually worked.

There was nothing he could do right now except try to rest a bit and wait until morning came. Sighing, he stretched out on his mat, lying on his side facing Goku. Once again, he tried reaching out with his thoughts to the boy, trying to use their unusual link to maybe soothe him. And, once again, he couldn't get anything more out of him than his chest hurt, he was hot, no cold, he was tired... and where was Sanzo?

Placing a hand over the one Goku had over the blankets, Sanzo said quietly, "I'm right here, like I said I would be. You stupid fucking monkey." He closed his eyes, preparing to catch as much sleep as he could.

* * *

The wild thrashing next to him was what tore him wide awake. Sanzo sat up, alarmed as Goku continued to groan, head lashing from side to side, sweat coating his skin and making his clothing stick to him. What the hell? It took him only a moment longer to realize Goku was trying to get the blankets off. Not a good idea. Grabbing both tiny wrists in one hand, Sanzo pinned them over Goku's head, placing his other hand firmly on Goku's chest.

"Goku, stop it! Just hang on, Goku!" The sky was moving from inky to orange. Dawn was almost here. Where the hell was the doctor?

"Maser Sanzo?" one of the servants called hesitantly.

"Find that goddamn doctor NOW!" he shouted, all his attention bent on the struggling boy under him.

Goku's eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost over powered the liquid gold surrounding them. Sanzo waited, heart slamming into his chest in anticipation. There were several tense seconds where neither of them moved, Goku's eyes frozen open. Just as he was about to hope the boy was waking up, Goku's eyes rolled back in his head, showing the whites. The thrashing began again only... it wasn't the same. He wasn't trying to get free or push the covers off. He was just... spasming. His mouth was working, trying to draw in more than just a few shallow breaths. And his thoughts were spinning wildly, moving in whirlwinds of fear, pain and confusion. The need for air was the most prevalent thought, and that was what Sanzo decided to focus on.

Still keeping his one handed grip on Goku's wrists, Sanzo pressed his other hand firmly to Goku's chest. "Goku, listen to me. Ignore the pain and listen to my voice. Breathe in. Goku! GOKU! I said breathe in, damn it!" He carefully kept the near panic from his voice and thoughts, reaching out in every way he knew how to the boy gasping for an even breath. "Come on, you monkey, work with me. " It wouldn't do for either of them if he showed his fear.

The thrashing stopped, but he was still having trouble breathing. Shit! Without thinking, Sanzo sat him up further, pulling his limp form across his chest and between his legs. His own heart beating so wildly he thought it was going to explode, he held Goku's back to his chest. "Ready, together on the count of three. When I breathe, you breathe, got it? One... two... three..."

It wasn't much, but he felt Goku's chest rise at the same time as his, releasing the small amount of air long before he did.

"Again, Goku. Try to take in more."

They repeated the process, over and over again until Goku's breathing was fairly even. Sanzo continued to hold him upright, afraid that if he let go the thrashing would start again. It wasn't until Goku was taking breaths on his own that he realized the whole process had worn him out. He felt like he'd just gotten his ass handed to him before running ten miles uphill! Lifting a shaking hand, he pushed his hair back, rubbing his eyes. Gods, this was just too much! Glancing again at the light filtering through the tiny glass window, he was suprised to see that the orange was now fully in the sky. Morning had come and Goku had made it through the night.

The door opened and the doctor came rushing in, opening his bag before he'd even knelt on the ground. 'I'm sorry, Master Sanzo. I came as soon as I could. What happened?"

"He couldn't breathe and he started jerking around."

The doctor was already parting Goku's lips and pouring a thick liquid down his throat. "And you sat him up to breathe better. A very good decision on your part."

"He needed to breathe evenly. I thought if he could breathe with me, it might help."

Nodding again, the doctor pulled Goku's shirt open and began rubbing a strong smelling cream into his chest. "Once again, excellent call. That very well might have saved his life, Master Sanzo."

And when the monkey was fully recovered, he would remind him of that fact several times over. Sanzo let out an exhausted sigh, closing his eyes. That was one of the longest nights of his life. It felt like he'd been waiting forever for morning to come. Goku was safe now, the doctor was here to see to that.

It hadn't occured to him until the morning came how badly Goku's death would have bothered him. And he didn't like that in the least. Yes, as soon as the boy was feeling better he was getting hit in the head!


	14. Gojyo 4

I quickly exchanged out the bucket of puke by Green Eyes' side, hurling my own load in it before chucking it out the open window by the bed. The hot summer heat came in, making our weakened states even more... well, weak. The humid air also made the vomit collecting in the bottom of the bucket congeal faster and stink even worse. Man... did I do a number on us!

"Tell me again... what did you use?" Green Eyes choked and spewed more into the pale before flopping on the bed, clutching his side and wincing.

"Bweeeh... eggs... cheese... chili sauce... tuna..." I got caught in another bout of gut spewing and couldn't finish. Chunks of fish bobbed in the odd orange-red mixture in the container, laced through with snot-like strings of clear mucus draining from my nose into my stomach. My eyes burned and stung from the pressure of being sick almost nonstop now for four hours. Green Eyes wasn't any better either. I could see where some of the stitches in his side had torn open, tiny scarlet blood drops soakign through the bandages. Miri had said no sudden activity. Violently tossing your cookies fell in that catergory. I was one dead kappa when she found out.

"There was more than... ack... that." The tone was almost accusatory. Which was fine, because he was right.

"I wasn't done, dude! Corn meal, ramen, teriyaki... wasabi... gimme the fucking bucket!" He'd barely finished unloading before I snatched it from his hands, chest heaving and stomach muscles aching with the effort. Honestly, how much food did I store down there to be THIS sick?

"Please... for the love of God... brruh... don't cook again!"

Two things occured to me then. One, the bastard was implying I was a bad cook, which is COMPLETELY untrue... with the exception of tonight. And two, he said 'God', not 'gods'. Great, I was housing a Christian. The only time I ever used 'god' was in vain. Like 'Goddamn, this shit is nasty' and such. Well, here's hoping the dude's not the type to try and reform my sinner's ways. Sorry, but I like women getting on their knees for something OTHER than praying. Oh, sure, I'd hit the major festivals or feast days for the major gods. My brother kind of drilled THAT much religion into me. But there was no way in hell I was praying every damn day to every damn deity, major and minor. Let those crazy-assed monks do that. It was their job.

I rotated out the bucket for the small garbage can from the bathroom, once again bailing puke out the window. This sucked, and it was totally Green Eyes' fault! Yeah, I was the one who made the shit that was making us sick, but it was all his fault anyway!

I came home about two days ago, smashing drunk, pockets full fo money won at the tables, and feeling MUCH better after getting laid a couple times. It had been a while since I'd seen any female action, so I was doing great. Even in my drunken state, I knew enough to try and be as quiet as possible sneaking in. It was three in the morning and Green Eyes was probably asleep by now. I'd left him medicine, water and tea in a little thermose by the bed so he could help himself. It hadn't been my idea to go out. Believe me, with as wrecked up as he was, I didn't wanna leave him alone for a long period of time, but he'd insisted. So... who am I to argue with a guest?

I was just trying to figure out how to untie my boots when his voice came over from the bed. It didn't sound sleepy, more like he'd been awake the entire time, which pissed me off a little. One, he was supposed to be resting. Two, there had been no need for my stealthy tiptoing across the floor. Damn!

"You're back." He wasn't asking a question or anything, just stating the obvious. What made me look up from the tangle of boot laces was how incredibly relieved he sounded.

"Yeah, and I've got some mad cash, too."

"Ah. I left some food out, if you want it."

Shit... to be honest, that was a little weird. I mean, he was a guy, right? So why was he trying to act like my mother? Even as sick and hurt as he was, he still cleaned the house almost every day, cooked every other day. And, I'm not talking ramen, I'm talking lemongrass chicken and shit that you'd see in a classy restaurant. Until he'd started cooking, I had no idea what the fuck lemongrass was! Now, I had herbs. I had spices. Hell, I even had this big fancy knife for chopping vegetables. Even more shocking, I HAD vegetables! Every day Miri came over, she'd bring Green Eyes something for the kitchen. The dude seriously loved to cook.

The cooking part wasn't what weirded me out. It was... it was more the fact that I had someone there who was trying to take care of me. He shouldn't be the one taking care of me. _I_ should be the one taking care of _him_, and I felt guilty that more and more things were being sort of slipped off of my shoulders onto his bruised and battered ones. He shouldn't be the one sweeping crumbs from the floor. He shouldn't be the one standing in the kitchen over a hot wok. I tried to do the dishes at least, but he didn't like leaving them stacked over night so he usually rinsed them immediately after use at least.

I have no idea where this next thought came from, but for now I'll blame it on mixing whiskey, sake, and beer. As I was stretching myself out on the futon (Heito and I moved it in the day before, and put the battered sofa out on the curb), all I could think of was that he was acting more like a servant than a mom. He never complained about any of the work, was always eager to do anything he could. It was like he was trying to pay me back or something by being a slave. That wasn't cool with me. He didn't owe me shit. All I did was drag his ass out of the rain and get a doctor to make sure I stuffed his guts back okay. If he owed anyone anything, it was Miri, not me.

So, just before I passed out, I remember muttering, "Keep your ass in bed tomorrow. I'm doing the housework. AND, I'm cooking dinner!"

I think he'd replied with, "Oh... okay."

I'm a man of my word. No one in town can complain about me walking out on a debt or that if I say I'm gonna kick their ass, I'll do it. So, the very next morning, I stumbled out of bed... and found Green Eyes had already made breakfast and fresh coffee. "Goddamn, sonufabitch!"

Green Eyes looked up from where he'd been staring into his coffee cup, eyes slightly wide. "Pardon me?" he asked, quickly trying to force the depression from his eyes.

"I said I was doing all this today!" Was it really so difficult to just lie in bed and heal? I thumped around the kitchen, dumping a load of eggs, potatoes and peas onto a plate, pouring coffee into a ceramic beer mug (it's bigger than the coffee ones), added lots of sugar and cream and then sat down across from him.

Green eyes blinked, a little surprised smile on his lips. "Gojyo, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Wuzzat?" I asked around the eggs. Awesome, as usual with his cooking. He was worth keeping around for that reason alone.

"For this. All of this." he waved his hand around to indicate the clean house, the food, the organized cupboards. "I was only trying to help you."

I stopped mid-bite, fork poised in the air, mouth wide open. I looked like an idiot, I knew that from the grin he was trying to keep from his face. It felt good to see him give a REAL smile for a change. Deciding quickly to put the fork in my mouth, I shrugged as I chewed and spoke around the eggs. "Well... s'not that I don't appreciate it but you're supposed to be restin'. I mean, that crazed wench of a doctor might here about it and put the hurtin' on me. That's not cool." Adopting a 'stern face' (which actually earned me a chuckle from him), I continued saying, "So, from now on, mister, don't you DARE get off that bed unless it's to ear what I've cooked or take a piss, got it?"

Green Eyes continued to laugh softly, fingers running around the handle of his coffee mug, "Yes, dad," he replied.

I hate housework, which is why it never gets done until it's absolutely necessary. But, if it meant making this guy relax, smile and laugh like that again, I could do it for a couple more weeks. So, immediately after breakfast, I cleaned up. I could tell I wasn't doing it the way Green Eyes did because he kept fidgeting from the bed and asking if I was certain he couldn't help me with that. Personally, I didn't see what was wrong, and I was saving time, too. Keep the hto water running, rinse everything, scrub if you have to, put them on a towel to air dry. See? Yeah, no soap, but the way I figured it was they'd been soaped before, we only used them for ten minutes. How many germs could really get on them anyway?

I had just finished the last plate when Miri came for her daily inspection. Since she was doing runs now between four towns (the last one was added on when their doctor died in an attack by youkai robbers), she usually stopped by on her way home. If it was dark, I'd walk her the rest of the way. I know, I know... I'm such a fucking gentleman!

"Good gods... Gojyo, come here!" Miri beckoned me over urgently, eyes wide and fearful.

"What?" I demanded suspiciously. I probably had some food particle on my face...

She quickly pressed a cool hand to my forehead, then to my cheek. "Hmm... you don't feel sick. But why in the hell are you doing the dishes?"

It took me a second to figure out she was being sarcastic. When it finally sank in, I rolled my eyes and shoved her hand away from me. "Ha ha. Wanna hear something just as shocking? I'm cooking dinner tonight, too." Let her chew on THAT for a bit... no pun intended.

Miri's face held real worry this time. "Something other than ramen?"

I nodded, grinning as the worry turned to borderline fear.

"Just don't blow the house up. And don't feed it to your guest either. After all the time and effort we've put into keeping him alive, it'd be a shame to kill him with your cooking."

Green Eyes quickly turned a laugh into a cough when I glared over at him. "Just wait, it'll be the best damn food he's ever had."

Arching a brow, Miri crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. "Oh, really? And what, O Master Chef Gojyo, will you be preparing?"

Shit... hadn't really thought about that! Scratching my head for a second as I tried to come up with something, I finally gave up and swiped my smokes off the table, heading for the door. "Haven't got a fucking clue," I muttered as her howling laughter followed me out the door. I stood outside smoking and trying to remember what exactly I had in the house. As far as I could remember, the only things I'd ever cooked were prepackaged ramen and reheated left overs. There was a very good reason the oven was about the cleanest place in the house. Seriously, though, how hard could it be? You just threw stuff into a bowl, made it taste good and then popped it in the oven, right? I could do this... yeah, this would be easy.

About ten minutes later, I was smoking my second cigarette and Miri was coming out of the house. She stopped when she saw me standing near some dead bush-thing and started humming a funeral dirge. "Bite me," I called after her, grinning as she mimed choking to death on the road, complete with falling over on her back.

"AHHH! GOJYO!" Miri screeched as I ran over to her before she could get up, diving around her waist and pulling her back to the ground. She was headlocked and getting a fistful of dead grass shoved down the back of her shirt before she even knew what was happening. "You are such an asshole!"

I was grinning and running back toward the house as she continued to cuss me out while shaking her shirt free. "If Heito asks how you got grass stains on your back, tell him it was all my fault," I shouted. Her screaming and cussing got louder (not to mention more colorful) at that. I shut the door, still chuckling as I pulled my hair back from my face and neck with a rubber band. Green Eyes was sitting up in bed, a curious little frown on his face.

"Were you two fighting?" he asked.

"Naw, just playin. See, Miri was being- hey, no more stitches!"

He smiled a little before motioning toward his stomach. "Everything but that. She said I was healing up just fine. Gojyo... are you SURE you don't want me to at least help?"

I waved him back, pulling open the spice cupboard and pulling out whatever I thought looked like it might go. Parsely, basil, rosemary, paprika, salt, pepper, garlic, fennel (whatever the hell that was)... all of this came down and onto the counter. Oh, and something called allspice. Hey, with a name like that, how could I go wrong? It had 'all' and 'spice' in it!

"Uh, Gojyo..."

"Zip it! I'm not getting any help, I don't want any help, and... where the fuck are all the pans?" The drawer they used to be in was now full of storage containers.

"Left hand side of the sink."

"Oh. When'd they get moved there?"

"I did it a week ago. There's more room there for them, and it puts them closer to the stove."

Good point. I found a large, fairly flat pan and lit up the stove. I put the pot on, pulled down a pack of ramen, added some water and all the spices I had pulled down and waited for the water to boil. I opened the fridge, found some eggs left, some cheese, an opened can of tuna that hadn't been used and some left over chili sauce from the Chinese food we had about... five days ago. All of it went into the pot as well.

"Gojyo-,"

"Damn it, I'm tryin' to cook here!" Shit... the eggs were forming something kind of foamy on the surface of the water. Were they supposed to do that? The water looked almost black and the tuna had vanished somewhere. I added the noodles, stirring everything together. It didn't smell TOO bad. Maybe a couple beers would make it look a little more edible. I portioned out the bowls, grabbed some chopsticks, the cardboard handle on the rest of the beer case in the fridge, and joined Green Eyes over at the bed.

"Oh... it looks terrific," he lied. He couldn't even summon a fake smile for it.

Scowling, I dug in. "Yeah, yeah, so it's not as pretty as some of yours. But it tastes pretty good, right?" Actually... it tasted like shit. I wasn't going to be the one to say it, though. That'd be like saying I didn't know what the fuck I was doing... which technically, I didn't, but he didn't need to know that.

Green Eyes nibbled at his, shivering as he forced himself to swallow. "My, how delicious," he said as politely as possible.

Both of us ate in silence, drinking beer after every bite to wash it down. Okay, so I wasn't a master chef. But I at least tried! After The Sutff That Was Supposed To Be Dinner was completed, I washed everything off. Properly, too, with soap and a strainer. Gods knew I didn't want to risk leaving any of that crap stuck on there for the next meal!

We played cards for about an hour, and after he'd cleaned me out of all my potato chips (no real ones, loaned them to Tongpu a week before and hadn't gotten them back yet) we both got ready for bed. Well, I got ready. He was already wearing a borrowed pair of sweat pants. The lights went out and we both settled on our respective beds, the windows open in hopes of catching some kind of breeze in the unbearable heat. Not even the insects were out, it was so damn bad. I was lying on top of the sheets, the ceiling fan doing its job by kicking out some kind of cool relief.

I was just starting to fall asleep when it happened. My stomach rowled angrily, gurgling loudly in the darkness. I put a hand to it and rolled over on my side, hoping that would ease it a bit. No dice. It continued to roll and growl like a cat was stuck inside my guts, twisting to get free. Shit... I got up and managed to get to the garbage can in the kitchen in time to have dinner come up.

"Ugh... excuse me!" A hand appeared next to mine and suddenly Green Eyes was heaving next to me. Trust him to be polite while puking. Our eyes met and we both knew then this was gonna be one helluva night. He got back in bed, I pulled out the mop bucket from under the sink and went to the bathroom for the garbage can. I pulled a chair up next to the bed and we spent the rest of the night getting rid of not only dinner, but lunch, breakfast and possibly yesterday's dinner as well.

And that was how we found ourselves greeting the sunrise with a salute to the porcelain goddess. I was so worn out I could have puked on myself and not given a shit about it. Green Eyes was finally quiet, burping and dry heaving a little as the sky went all pink and pretty. "Gojyo?" he rasped out.

"Huh?"

"Please, may I do the cooking from now on?"

"Fucking hell, yes," I mumbled before leaning over for one more round. At that point, he could have asked to give me a bikini wax and I probably would have let him. After all, it was all his fault I had cooked dinner to begin with!


	15. Fight To Live

Fight To Live

Goku was happy. No, Goku was excited! Now that he knew that 'excited' was more happy than 'happy', he liked to use it for times like this. He continued to half-skip behind Sanzo, humming his favorite new song that he'd just made up ten minutes ago (it was actually closer to an hour, but Goku still had trouble with telling time) and was excited. After asking Sanzo over and over and over again for the last three days, the older man had finally caved in and said Goku could come along the next time he was sent on a Mission. And that's what they were now doing. Going on a Mission. Goku didn't know much about a Mission, but he knew that when Sanzo went on one, he was gone for a long time. Sometimes even a WHOLE DAY! He didn't like that.

As with everything of Sanzo's, there were rules to a Mission. And, like every rule that Sanzo ever told him... he forgot. He'd been repeating them over and over in his head until he'd seen something he'd never seen before: a rainbow. His prison had been too far in the earth for him to see it, so when he first saw the beautiful colors, he'd stopped and stared at it. Then Sanzo had hit him with that really big fan he kept... somewhere... and told him to stop gaping at 'some damned rainbow like it was dinner'. Goku had started walking again, rubbing his head and glancing back as often as he could to still see it before the trees hid it away completely. That was when the song came into his head, and that was when the rules left completely.

He didn't want to tell Sanzo he'd forgotten the rules. Sanzo would be really mad. AND, he'd probably hit him again. But... what if the rules were really important? He tramped along behind Sanzo, shoving aside trees and bushes that were closing in on the path. The path was getting more and more choked up with all the bushes and plants, but he kept up with Sanzo, never letting him out of his sight. "Sanzo...?"

"Shut up."

"But, SANZO, I-"

Sanzo whipped around, gun in hand. Goku only had a couple of seconds to register two things; one, the gun was aiming over his head, and two, his entire body was prickling. Just like before when those mean people (youkai is what Sanzo called them) had attacked. Goku hit the ground just as the gun went off and a scream of pain broke through the forest. Oh, NO! Goku stayed on the ground as Sanzo began firing in all directions at once, each bullet finding a home in a body. Some of them disintegrated, others didn't. Goku crawled over to one that didn't, being careful to stay out of Sanzo's way, and turned the body over, staring into glassy, dead... human eyes. Humans? There were HUMANS attacking them? But... why were humans attacking? Weren't humans nice?"

"Unh! Fucking pervert, get off!"

Goku looked up at Sanzo's voice... and he couldn't breathe. A man was sitting across Sanzo's stomach and he was holding him down! Sanzo was struggling and struggling... where was his gun? Why didn't he shoot the guy? Goku watched as Sanzo continued to fight the man, one arm pinned to the ground the other swinging to hit the man in the head. But... the gun wasn't in either hand! WHERE WAS HIS GUN?

The man went rolling off of Sanzo from the punch to his head, getting quickly to his feet. Sanzo scrambled across the ground for his gun and the man ran for him with an evil face and a really big knife in his hands.

Goku didn't really remember how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was screaming and then... the man was running for him, laughing with really scary eyes. Goku crouched down when the knife came whistling where his neck would have been, grabbing the wrist as tightly as he could, angry that the man first tried to hurt Sanzo and then tried to hurt HIM! That man wasn't very nice at all. The man struggled to break the hold he had on his wrist, pushing and shoving and trying to hit him... and then he fell forward with a gasp, eyes wide. Goku stared up into his shocked face, felt something warm and squishy on his hands, before the man slid to the ground, mouth working without any sounds coming out. He just stood there and stared at the man who looked like a fish and watched as his body gave a couple sharp jerks (like he was being tickled) and then... nothing.

He was standing over the man with blood all over his hands, and the man wasn't moving. The only thing he remembered thinking was that the man was going to hurt Sanzo, and that he had to stop it. But... why wasn't the man moving? He hadn't hurt the man... had he? Goku looked again at his hands and saw he was holding the really big, heavy knife awkwardly, that it was covered in blood just like his hands. Goku dropped the knife and sank down so that he was lying on the ground next to the man, just so he could see his eyes. He wanted to see if they were dead people eyes. They were glassy and empty and very, very dead. Dead! The man was dead because he'd hurt him! He'd... he'd made the man DEAD!

"Goku! Shit, Goku, get up!"

Sanzo sounded... scared? He rolled over when a hand gripped his shoudler hard, staring up into slightly widened violet eyes. But Goku couldn't focus on that. He was more worried about the man he'd made dead. Sanzo's eyes narrowed angrily and then he growled, fan suddenly in hand and drawing back. "He's... he's not moving, Sanzo."

The fan stopped in mid-swing. "What?"

"He's not movin' or breathin' or anything. He's not... alive. And I did that. I..." Goku curled up into a tiny ball so Sanzo couldn't see him crying. Sanzo would be mad at him for getting in the way again, just like the last time. And besides, Sanzo wouldn't understand why he was sad. The man was really mean, but what if he had someone he was taking care of, too, just like Sanzo took care of him? That boy wouldn't have HIS sun anymore, and that wasn't a good thing at all!

Goku flinched when long, familiar fingers slid back through his hair, curling around strands firmly without pulling. Yet. "Why are you crying?"

"M'not cryin'!"

"Bullshit. Are you upset you killed him?"

He nodded slightly.

"And do you think it would have been better to stand there while he killed you?"

Goku froze before nodding. Would that have been better? The man was gonna hurt him first. He hadn't wanted to kill the man, only get him away from Sanzo. "I didn't wanna him to be dead, though," he mumbled, finally rolling over to look up at Sanzo. the light was coming through a gap in the trees, making his hair sunshine bright, his face cast in shadows, all except for his eyes.

"I know that. You're too stupid to ever plan on killing someone. But you listen to me, Goku, that man there CHOSE this path. He chose to leave any family he might have had for this reason. He chose to attack me, and he chose to attack you. And when someone chooses to take a life, they have to accept that other's will come to take theirs in revenge."

"But... but I didn't WANNA-,"

"Shut up. When you choose to fight someone to the death, there are only two outcomes; they die or you die. Would you rather it be you lying there dead or him?"

Goku didn't want to die, not if it meant never seeing Sanzo again. And the man DID attack him first. Scrunching his eyes in a fierce look, he said, "No. I don't wanna die."

"Then you better fight to live. Don't ever fight to lose. Show mercy where you can, but understand your opponent won't necessarily show mercy back. They WANT you dead, and you can't let that happen. So, don't fight unless you plan on living through it."

He nodded, sniffling and wiping his eyes. _Fight to live... okay, then that's what I'll do. I'll fight to live._ Sanzo stood up, brushing the dead leaves from his robes. He lit a cigarette before holding his hand out to Goku. Goku took it, letting Sanzo pull him to his feet.

"Let's get going. This bullshit wasted a lot of time."

Goku followed along behind Sanzo, looking back only once at the man still lying there unmoving. And, he still felt bad about it... but not nearly as bad as he would have felt if he'd been the one dead.


	16. Hakkai 4

"Dude, you gonna be okay doing this? I mean, it hasn't been done in YEARS, it doesn't have to be done now."

I smiled at Gojyo, knowing it didn't exactly reach my eyes. It was more a force of habit than anything else. He said something that required a smile, so I smiled. He helped me get settled on the ground outside with a rusty little spade, a watering can full of water... and several packs of different plant seeds. He'd mentioned the other day how there used to be a garden alongside his house. We'd talked a little more about it before it was decided he'd buy the seeds if I planted them.

"I'll be fine, honestly, Gojyo. Thank you for everything."

He shifted a little, eyes darting to the side as he shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever. I've gotta go win some money for groceries. There's still leftover chicken shit in the fridge from last night. Don't forget your meds and... uh... don't go bustin' yourself over this shit here. They're only gonna die in this heat."

I only nodded to this as I picked up the spade and began to hack away at the thirsty, dry earth. Gojyo watched for a couple minutes before he turned around, flicking ash from his cigarette away from me, and walked off. He was right about the plants. I knew this, but I still persevered. At least I was out of the house and getting some fresh air. Granted, I was still unable to walk completely without aid, but if given a choice between crawling back inside or remaining in bed with two week old newspapers to read yet again, crawling was the more desireable option here.

It was a little afternoon and the sun was monstrously hot against my back and shoulders. Gojyo had graciously allowed me to use one of his tank tops and a pair of shorts, but even that little amount of clothing was too much for this weather. I continued to hack away at earth so deprived of hydration that it was like chiseling into rock, satisfied when I finally managed a shallow hole to drop seeds in. Gojyo had purchased quite an assortment, everything from vegetables to flowers. I pushed onward, digging neat little rows in the compacted dirt, dropping in two or three seeds and watering them when they were covered again. The ground soaked the moisture up immediately, drying almost instantly in the merciless sun.

I finally stopped when I could feel the sun cooling at my back, shoulders stiff and aching with the promise of sunburn, sweat dripping from the end of my nose onto the dark blue shorts. I was panting and my side ached terribly. Glancing down, I noticed a faint red stain on the white shirt and realized that the sutures were still seeping a little. Gojyo wouldn't be pleased at all about me straining my body so much. I struggled to my feet, panting and clutching my side as the ache spread into my stomach and up my chest. Using the house for support, I managed to get myself inside, pulling the shirt off when I stumbled into the bathroom, plugging the sink up to run some cold water in it. Just a quick soak to keep the blood from setting and then washing it with bleach should do the trick. It needed a good cleaning anyway from all the work outside.

As the sink filled, I glanced up at my reflection in the cracked and paint speckled mirror. Obviously, a previous tenent had painted the walls this horrendous off-white and baby blue color, and they had done a remarkably poor job of it. I could see the scar clearly, the stitches a dark contrast to the reddened skin, which contrasted with the natural paleness surrounding it. Toward the middle was where five or six of the stitches had been torn free, the exact same spot the last three times they'd come undone. Miri was going to be very angry when she saw this. She kept warning me the more I stressed the wound, the bigger the scar would get. I watched myself in the mirror as my fingers slowly moved toward the wound, shaking nervously. I hadn't actually touched it yet. It still seemed so unreal, like a nightmare I couldn't pull myself out from. I stopped the movement when something cold splashed onto my bare foot.

"Oh... no!" I quickly stopped the sink, twisting the loose knob deftly to stop the water from running over anymore than it already had. The white shirt with it's crimson droplets floated as it absorbed more water, sinking slowly down into the chipped and cracked basin. I continued to lean over the sink, watching the stained white material slosh back and forth as the water began to settle. Funny, but I could still hear water running, pounding in my ears, my head... just like the night at the castle...

It was the deep grumbling bass of thunder that told me I wasn't hearing water in a faucet or in the pipes running up and down the thin walls. I was hearing rain. With the rapidly cooling weather of evening clashing with the unbearable heat of the day, the two opposing forces had finally freed the flood that the earth so desperately needed. I let out a sharp hiss, arms hugging around my stomach as I collapsed to my knees, the wound aching so badly it felt like it was happening all over again, and with that pain it brought forth every last detail of that night in blinding flashes, in and out like lightening strikes.

_"Gonou! You came for me!"_

_"I'll get you out of here! Come with me, Kanan, I swear I'll protect you!"_

_"I... can't. Gonou... I'm carrying that monster's child..."_

_"Kanan, don't worry about that! Just come with me, everything- KANAN! NOOO!"_

I don't remember falling completely to the floor, hunched up, body curling around the stabbing pain in my stomach as the rain began to pound onto the little house, trying to break through the thin glass and roof to get me. I don't remember covering my ears, fingers digging in so hard to my scalp that I tore my hair out in small pieces. It didn't do any good, I kept hearing her voice, seeing her take my knife... the blood... God, all that blood...

_"So, you're the jealous lover? Her... brother, correct? Everytime my father fucked her, she'd scream your name and beg for death. What a shame to come so far and kill so many of my kind just to have her suicide in front of you. Does it hurt, Cho Gonou?"_

_"You... bastard! You did this!"_

_"I? No, you're mistaken. She did this to herself. Such a pity, really. She had the most lovely thighs I'd ever seen on a human wench before."_

God, I could still see him, gloating as he leaned against the wall, narrow silvered eyes catching in the torchlight, a smirk to his face. His attention was souly for me, not for those who layed dead around him. I scrunched myself up even tighter into a ball, felt the stitches as they were jerked free from my flesh, a burning hot wash of pain and blood. I could hear the soft clink of the metal limiters falling from his ear, the same ones I wore now. The cold metal bounced across the hard stone floor... and then he was on me, ripping into me, and I couldn't do anything. I wasn't a fighter. I'd gotten lucky and caught the castle by surprise. But this one... he'd known I was here. He was prepared for a fight, and I didn't stand a chance against him. A human with no true training against a youkai warrior? A sound came from my throat, very like the pained gasp I'd made then when he'd taken me off guard and sliced through my stomach with a knife he'd hidden in his sleeve. The wound hurt worse than ever, pulsing and throbbing in time with my rapidly beating heart, heat flaring up from the newly ripped edges. I clawed my way across the tiles now slippery with blood, the only part of my mind not being sucked down in the nightmare screaming for me to get the pain killers and where was Gojyo?

_"Let's see... how many people have you killed in this little revenge plot of yours? Oh, I don't much care about how many humans died in your pathetic quest for vengeance, but how many youkai did you kill? There were the two clans from the south of here... a small clan to the east... and us. Not a single survivor from any place. My goodness, Cho Gonou, you've killed almost a thousand youkai! Impressive for an incestuous human. Now, I seem to recall a myth about killing a thousand youkai... what was it again..."_

I was dying again. I had to be. I couldn't stop his voice from replaying in my head, saying the words that sealed my fate, stopped me from dying completely on the spot. I continued to crawl across the floor, one hand holding my side, fingers slippery with dark crimson blood, like the blood I'd spilled for her, the blood she'd spilled herself. Kanan... why did she leave me here, alone and with no one? She was everything to me, all I had or wanted in this life. Why wouldn't she let me save her?

_"Oh, I remember now! If a human baths in the blood of a thousand youkai, they become one themselves! Haha... what a wonderful twist of fate. Hmm... it only says the blood of a youkai. I wonder... Let's conduct a little experiment, shall we? Here's MY blood for you to bath in, without my death. And now, I'll leave you to die as one of the people you murdered so brutally. May you burn in Hell alongside those you sent there!"_

His blood had been hot against my cold skin, splashing over me, over my eyes, into my mouth, the gaping hole in my stomach. He'd massaged the gash on his arm just a bit to keep the blood flowing, flinging it all up and down my body, covering me in it. I remember thinking how strange it was that his blood, a youkai's blood, tasted so similar to my own before... it happened. The change.

I reached the table with the pills on it, the ones that would hopefully either kill me or send me into blessed unconsciousness where these memories couldn't hurt me, when my body slammed itself to the floor, the sensory overload from remembering the change throwing it into shock. I screamed, screamed until my throat was raw, my fingers digging into the floor hard enough to break my nails and leave marks across the surface. My back arched sharply, tearing the rest of the stitches free in a disgusting popping sound, the wound now fully open where it hadn't healed into a fresh pink scar, blood oozing as fast as it wanted from my body. Everything that had been a blur and barely remembered after I'd changed now came back clearly and full force. I felt all the anger, all the pain, all the pure and mindless hatred just balling inside my stomach as I rose to my feet, reveling in the near animalistic violence begging to be released. I remembered the look in his eyes, the fear that came through those mocking, slanted eyes the color of...

Crimson?

No, his eyes had been silver.

Then why was I seeing crimson eyes, fringed in lashes such a dark red they could have passed for black? Eyes wide and filled with not fear but near mindless worry for me. I was staring into eyes the color of fresh blood, upside down, hair just a little lighter in color forming a curtain around us. Rough hands that smelled of cigarettes craddled my face, held my head still, my hands tightly locked around steady wrists. "Go...jyo..."

Gojyo didn't relax in the least when I croaked out his name. A thumb brushed something wet from my cheek, not blood but tears. "Yeah, it's me, and you're a fucking wreck. Just keep looking at me, okay? We're gonna get through this, together."

"Just... let me die," I begged. He should have let me die back in those woods. Why didn't he just let me die?

"Dying ain't gonna fix a thing, you hear me? It won't change the past, it won't make it all better. I wasn't allowed to die, so I'm sure as hell not gonna let you. It's almost done now, just look at me and listen to me. Don't let it eat you up."

"It... hurts. God, it hurts so bad..." I couldn't stop sobbing, couldn't stop my hand from going to my side, pressing down over the throbbing wound.

"It's always gonna hurt. I'm not gonna lie and say it won't. But, you'll learn to deal with it. THAT I can promise you. The storm's almost over. See, the thunder's already moving away. Just don't let what happened get to you. Cry if you have to, scream if you want to, but don't ever let it beat you up, got that?"

His voice was drowning out the rain, his concerned gaze pushing all the horrible, blood soaked images back where they belonged. I was gasping for an even breath, still crying, hands locked around his wrists so tightly my nails had dug in, forming perfect half moons that were filled with blood under the surface of his tanned skin. It must have hurt, but he never complained or mentioned it. Gojyo remained where he was, keeping my head still so I couldn't turn it away, talking to me, maintaining eye contact, until the storm had passed completely, the only sounds now the water plopping through a hole in the ceiling. Slowly, my body began to relax, the pain subsiding to a dull ache as the blood began to clot up on it's own, sealing over the new holes to stop the blood.

Slowly, Gojyo relaxed his grip on my face, eyes closing as his shoulders sagged in relief. "It's over now," he said softly. "Come on, let's get you drugged and in bed. I'll have Miri come out tomorrow to see how bad you are."

I couldn't remember nodding or replying or anything to that. Gojyo helped me settle onto the bed, gave me the required pills and some water before sinking into a chair by the bed, wiping a shaking hand across his face. As the medicine began to take effect, numbing my body wonderfully, I looked over at him and he looked at me. I fell asleep staring into crimson eyes awash with pity and... understanding. Understanding? As the sleep finally overcame me, I realized that maybe I wasn't as alone in the pain as I'd thought. Maybe there was someone there who could relate to it. And that someone continued to sit awake as I drifted off to sleep, watching over me as he had since I'd first woken up on his bed.


	17. Singin' In The Rain

Singin' In The Rain

This was a cold rain. He could tell just from the way it hit the window pain, a sharp tapping noise that meant it was close to freezing. Too early in the season for snow, but only by a few months. The leaves that had been raked together in tidy piles under the nearly bare trees would have frost on them by morning. He knew because he used to rake those damn things, day in and day out.

Sanzo took a hit, held the smoke until the burning ate at his lungs. He held it like it was the last breath before going under water, and in a way it was. Except, he wasn't being dragged down by a river's current this time. It was more the current of memories sweeping over him, sucking him down and down where there was no light to save him this time. As he let the breath out, he imagined it was just like that time in the river, though he could barely remember it. Had he given up then and just let the air out of his lungs, knowing it would kill him? When it rained out, he liked to think so. He liked to think that just by letting out the smoke and air, he could just fade away from it all.

He sat in the window, but refused to touch the cold glass. He could feel the chill seeping in from there, but couldn't bring himself to touch it. The glass wasn't a thick enough barrier between him and the rain. It was too close and too visible. It was why he hated having to camp out if rain was in the forecast. A tent was only a little better than a window because at least then he couldn't see the rain drops. The first night he'd ever experienced rain in the open had been two weeks after his master's death. He remembered huddling in the dark, under a tree, barely breathing as he worked the prayer beads between his fingers, whimpering any time a drop happened to make it through the leaves above and hit him. He'd been very stupid back then, leaving without giving much thought to what he intended to do. He'd left with the gun, the sutra, and whatever clothing he'd been wearing. Not the brightest thing in the world.

As much as he hated to see those silvery droplets clinging to the glass, he couldn't tear his eyes away. It consumed his vision and overode his mind screaming for his body to just turn away or close his eyes. The rain swallowed him up and refused to let him go. He could almost pretend that the sharp, stabbing beats wailing on the window was laughter, laughter from the storm clouds above. It laughed at his agony, his inability to make his body comply. He hated this feeling of not being in control of himself. He worked so hard to control every aspect of his life as much as his title would permit, and here he was caving in to a force of nature.

Sanzo took another slow drag, studying to cherry red tip to the cigarette. Life is like a cigarette... the old fool who got him hooked on these damn things had told him that years ago. He didn't know why really he'd taken up smoking. It hadn't been until after he'd been smoking for a couple months that he'd discovered they took away the headaches just a bit. Maybe that old bastard had known that... or maybe he just didn't like smoking alone. Whatever the reason, the first cigarette he'd lit had made him sick. He'd smoked three of those frail, white sticks and then puked his guts out. But he'd still gone back for more, especially when it rained like this. He took comfort in the thought that they might actually kill him before things got any worse.

His eyes narrowed as his ears picked up something that didn't sound like rain. It sounded more like... singing? Who the hell would be out in the rain? Peering through the interlacing branches of the plum tree outside his window, Sanzo spotted a small shadow jumping around outside, arms over it's head. It kept spinning in circles, feet splashing hard in the puddles, making those splotches of darkness rise and fall around it. The figure's movements were awkward and sporadic, disorganized like the splattering of the rain. As it continued to stomp, spin, run and dance, it kept on singing, the words becoming more clear as it neared to plum tree.

"I like ran cuz it's soooo fuuun! I like rain cuz it's sooo fuuun! It's fun an' wet an' really, really fun! I like rain cuz it's soooo fun!"

Sanzo nearly bit through the filter of his cigarette. He'd recognize that high pitched racket anywhere. What the hell was that kid doing out there anyway? He'd just gotten over being sick as sin, and now he was playing outside in a freezing rain? Sanzo stood abruptly from his place by the window, robe swishing angrily as he stormed out of his room, fan slapping against his side where it was tucked away. It was going to be put to good use soon enough!

He stalked down the hall angrily, not even sparing a glance for the monks who quickly moved out of his way. It was cold as fuck in the temple! He fought the urge to rub his arms, breath misting in short bursts as he approached the main entrance and haulted to a stop. The doors were wide open... and there was an audience watching Goku outside. He could hear the whispers as he shoved his way through, noticed some of the faces were amused, others bewildered and still more furious.

"Isn't it his bed time?" someone spoke up from the back.

Sanzo whipped around, glaring as the sea of bodies he'd pushed to the front of collectively took two steps back. "If you think you can get him to bed, be my guest," he replied sharply. "Otherwise, shut the hell up and stay out of my way!" Trusting that his words would silence any other outbursts, he returned his attention to the small figure still pounding around outside. Unbelievable... Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to prepare himself, he stepped out from under the porch, fingertips rubbing together as the first icy splashes of rain bombarded him, instantly soaking into the thin silk robe and plastering his hair down.

"I like rain cuz it's sooooo, sooooo fuuun! I like rain cuz it's soooo, soooooo fuuuun!"

"GOKU!"

Goku froze in mid spin, smile slipping only briefly before it widened into a grin big enough to nearly rip his head in half. "Hiya, Sanzo! Isn't it great? It's raining!"

"Goku, what in the gods' names are you doing?" he shouted over the rain. Of course, it would pick this precise moment to fall more heavily! He was shaking from cold, breath clouding around him like cigarette smoke and his sandles were flooded with mud and water. The brat was dead as soon as he caught him!

Goku laughed, splashing in an enormous puddle. Sanzo threw an arm up to keep it from hitting his face. "I'm playin', what's it look like, stupid-head?" he shouted back. "Playin' in the rain cuz it's soooo much fuuuun!" He continued on with the new lyrics to his song, jumping from puddle to puddle in a big circle.

"GET YOUR ASS BACK INSIDE NOW!"

That made the kid stop, looking back over his shoulder with wide, startled eyes. "But Sanzo... I was just playin'." The words were softly spoken, but he still managed to hear them through the slapping of water onto the hard court.

Their eyes locked, golden and violet. Sanzo stared into big, stupid golden eyes... and suddenly he didn't want to beat the living shit out of him. Head drooping in defeat, he called over, "Get dried off as soon as you get in. I'm not taking care of your sick ass again!"

Goku's happy laughter floated after him as he turned his back and went inside again, feet squishing through the halls in a very undignified manner. He shrugged off the hands reaching to try and take the wet robe from him, hellbent on returning to his room without any help. Once the door was closed, he dried himself off immediately, put on a dry shirt and loose pants and stretched out on the bed to settle in for a sleepless night of listening to the rain. Except... he couldn't hear it so clearly. All he could focus on was Goku's simple song, sung over and over again with only a slight change in the lyrics every so often. Goku singing and playing in the rain, drowning out the tapping on the window. Goku's voice...

Great. He'd be kept up all night by a singing monkey, not the rain. Just fucking peachy.


	18. Gojyo 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a MATURE CHAPTER. Okay? Okay.

* * *

I have always appreciated the female body. No matter the shape or personality that came with it, if a woman was hot, she was hot. I didn't really have a preference. Big tits, small, short, tall, slightly more rounded... whatever. A woman's body was a very beautiful thing.

Which is why when an especially sweet looking thing came wriggled on my lap during a routine game of cards, I had show her how much I appreciated her body by rubbing a long length of exposed thigh from under a skirt so short it would have made a monk look twice. There were a few other good looking girls, but none like Seiti. Thick lashes over sultry brown eyes, long black hair skillfully coiled back from a tempting pale neck... did I mention the tight, ass-grazing skirt that gave everyone a clear view of legs that went on for miles? If I had to pick one body part on a woman I loved the most, it would have to be her legs. A woman could do so much with her legs. I'd rather have long legs wrapped around my waist than lips around my cock any day.

I hadn't started the evening looking to get laid. I _had _gone out to make more money and buy groceries for a very bare house. After that episode during the rain where the Dude had what looked like seizures (or, at least my interpretation of what a seizure should look like), I'd stayed stuck in the house with him. Miri had come by the next day, cussed him out for ripping his wound open, cussed me out for being a jackass to allow him to garden my 'fucking piece of shit yard', fixed him up and stayed long enough to cook something up before disappearing out into the drizzling rain. The Dude didn't even touch the food she'd made, opting instead for enough sleeping pills to keep him knocked out for the rest of the night.

I'd stayed up that night, unable to sleep. He tossed around a lot, moaning and occassionally crying in his sleep, unaware I was awake and could hear him. Whatever had happened had scarred him deeper than the wound in his stomach ever could. This was one of those scars that people wouldn't see and wouldn't ever understand fully if you told them about it. It was a scar that only you could feel being ripped open by stupid reminders, where the bleeding couldn't be stopped by any medic in the world. It would keep bleeding until you learned to stop it yourself, or at least keep it in check so you didn't die from the wound. That was all you really could do with something like that.

Everything had been going as planned. I was winning like mad (Tong Pu was such a fucking awful poker player), I had a good buzz going, and I was just beginning to think about wrapping things up... when Seiti had come strutting over, red lips curving with the promise of great sex. It had been weeks since I'd done more than jerk off in the shower on occassion. Couldn't exactly take a woman back to my place, seeing as the Dude was in my bed. Also couldn't exactly stay out for very long because of his injuries. As much as I felt bad for the Dude, he was seriously putting a kink in my extracurricular activities.

Needless to say, as soon as she mentioned she had a room up the road, I was already halfway to the door and glad as hell I'd worn looser pants. Otherwise, Mr. Big might have been too sore to do much of anything. I made quick, obvious goodbyes, collected my money and followed the sway of her hips like a blind man follows his dog. I think I did mention she had on the shortest skirt I'd ever seen, right? It did just enough to cover so that I still couldn't tell if she was thong or full coverage but not so much as I couldn't give a reasonable guess. Thong, definately, if that edge of cheek peeking out was any indication.

I was already shrugging my coat off before she shut the door to her room at the local inn. Seiti tugged my shirt off shortly before her ruby lips closed over mine, soft arms curling around my neck and fingers working through my hair. I could taste her moan in my mouth as my tongue brushed hers, my hands reaching around for the nonexistant skirt. She had to work out or something. No one's ass was that delightfully firm naturally. It felt good to have something thick and round in my hands. It felt even better to have someone's hands on my, fingernails clicking against the button fly to my baggy jeans. Her halter top suddenly became a belt, exposing cute perky breasts that felt fucking amazing against my bare chest. I'm not joking when I say it hurt me to play the gentleman and not fuck her up against the wall. Seiti, despite the very short skirt, was the type who liked good sex on a bed. How did I know? Trust me... I knew.

"Gojyo... ah... gods, right there," she murmured, breaking away from the kiss to brush the words and her tongue along my ear. I repeated the little circling of my hips that had brought about that reaction, groaning myself when her body surged against mine in a heated wave of movement. A woman's body could also move in so many delicious ways. Like how they would start a motion with their hips, swirling them close before that motion moved into their abs, up their breasts and through to their kiss. It sent shivers down my spine just thinking about her doing it again.

I lifted her up and very nearly dropped her on the floor again when those gorgeous legs wrapped around me, thighs squeezing along my hips. Holy shit... I had to tighten my hands on her ass to keep from just stretching her out on the floor and getting naked there. Nothing hotter than firm calves and soft thighs to drop yourself between. The only thing better being to wake up with curvy legs entwined with yours and your body aching from hot, passionate sex.

As soon as we hit the bed, me on top, the making out became more intense and more serious. Her manicured nails (red like her lips) pressed into my shoulders, her skirt joining her top around her waist to reveal I'd been so completely wrong about her panties. They were those lace boy-shorts kind, the ones made for women with sculpted asses and perfect legs. And they itched like mad against my palms. They needed to go. I was hornier than I'd been in a while, unable to do much about it due to my unexpected guest. I ground my boxer covered hips into hers, my jeans somewhere around my knees. I would have sex with her, stay for a bit and see about another hook up later, then go back home. I'd only been gone a couple hours. Mr. Big would never forgive me if I left a pretty thing like this for a broken man.

Seiti's mouth began to spill moans and panting breaths like an overflowing pitcher. Her eyes were dark and half closed, lips parted with the red smeared across her cheek from where I'd dragged my lips through the paint and down to suck the speeding pulse in her throat. Condoms... I had to get condoms from my jeans... I sat back enough to dig through my back pocket, eyes all for the writhing pale flesh and rosy tits underneath me. That is, until I saw the glowing numbers on the alarm clock next to her bed. Three in the morning. I'd left at eight. Miri had said to wake the Dude up around eleven and give him the anti-inflamatory pills she'd prescribed. SHIT!

Here I was with a hot girl begging me to fuck her (seriously, she was moaning it as her fingers curled into the bedspread beneath her) into the mattress... while the guy I was supposed to be helping lay in bed helpless and without his meds. I was such a fucking pig. To actually put my own physical needs ahead of his... Mr. Big went away with the dirty feelings that swept over me. I had come out for money to buy groceries. I hadn't come to get my dough rolled. And to leave him all alone, with the rain still threatening the sky. Little flashes of two nights ago came back and killed any chance of Mr. Big making an encore performance for this show. Goddamn it...

"Gojyo?" Seiti pushed herself up on her elbows, frowning worriedly as I pulled my pants up and grabbed my shirt off the floor.

I was so fucking selfish. I can't even grow some grass, why the hell would the gods expect me to take care of a dying man properly? Most guys would have said to stay, it would only take a minute to do her. Yeah... a minute for them maybe. I wasn't them, and I didn't take a minute with any woman. Sha Gojyo was all about mutual pleasure, and that just couldn't be done in a minute for most women. And, now that all I could think about was the Dude thrashing on the floor with blood all over his stomach, mouth open in a soundless scream, I knew there was no way I could just abandon him for a woman. Even if she had the shortest skirt ever stitched together.

"Gojyo, what's wrong? Why are you leaving?" she asked more loudly as I shrugged my coat back on.

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Seiti, you're beautiful, and I love nothing more than to have you wrap me up in those legs and scream my name, but I've got some place I need to be. Maybe another time, okay?"

"Yeah. Maybe." She was already covering those wonderful breasts up.

I opened the door and left. We both knew there wouldn't be another time. She was too pissed at me leaving her like that, and I had a man waiting for me at home.

How fucked up was that?


	19. Never Again

Never Again

Goku stared up into the cloth covere drapes of the large bed and scowled before shifting around on the slippery sheets. The bed was so big not even his weight moving around made much noise. His own room was across the hall, with it's smaller bed and warmer blankets, but Sanzo hadn't come home yet. He'd said he'd be gone for only one day. That was one time the sun rose and fell from the sky. Sanzo had been gone for three days. That was two more than he said, and Goku didn't like it.

He was all alone without Sanzo. Nobody wanted to talk to him, nobody wanted to sneak him food. They wouldn't let him go play outside or do anything besides sit in his room and miss Sanzo. Not even that Dougan would talk to him. Goku growled and snuggled the really soft pillow closer, catching just the faintest traces of Sanzo still clinging to the silk. It didn't matter how many times these things were washed or taken care of, he could still smell Sanzo on them. Cigarettes and sunshine, that's what he smelled like. He didn't care what Dougan said about him not being allowed in here, this was where he wanted to be right now!

The door was always locked when Sanzo left. This was his room, and no one but Dougan was allowed inside while he was gone. Goku snickered and glanced at the window he'd forced open. Too bad no one knew about climbing up the cherry tree! After that first night without Sanzo there to tell him to stay quiet and close his eyes, he'd slept here in Sanzo's too-big bed. Not even Sanzo liked the bed. He said it was pointless and a waste of space, whatever that meant. Goku didn't like it because it didn't have that Sanzo feel to it, no matter how much it smelled like him.

Thoughts of Sanzo being gone made him roll over again, mind working through all kinds of different pictures in his head. What if Sanzo fell off a cliff and hurt himself? What if he was sick on the road and no one knew about it? What if got eaten by a bear? That wouldn't be good. How would anyone know if he got eaten by a bear?

_"You're not coming with me. I'll be back in a day, so there's no need for you to act like an idiot."_

_"But... But Sanzo, I don't WANT you goin' by yourself! What if somethin' happens? Who's gonna protect you?"_

_"Do I look like I need protection, stupid monkey? You're not going, end of discussion!"_

_"Why not?"_

_"You're not ready."_

He was SO ready! Sanzo had been teaching him all kinds of stuff every day. He could protect Sanzo, he knew he could. He should have just followed Sanzo anyway. It would have been better than staying here where no one liked him. They acted like the puppy ruined the kitchen on purpose! And how was he supposed to know that bowl of water was for a goddess and not to keep fish in? Not to mention the fact that he really didn't understand why a god couldn't SHARE the pretty flat pebbles. They were perfect for skipping across that same god's pond.

Goku's stomach rumbled, but it wasn't because he was hungry. He was worried. Sanzo was really late, and that wasn't like him. He'd tried to talk to Dougan about it, but the other boy had glared at him and told him to mind his own business. Sanzo new what he was doing better than anyone on earth. He was, after all, the holiest of monks. That was stupid! Sanzo was Sanzo, and he was out there all alone with the gods knew what. He didn't _know _something was wrong for sure... but he felt it. He knew something had happened to his friend to keep him away longer than he said. Goku stifled a little whimper of worry and squeezed his eyes shut of seeing Sanzo unmoving and with blood on him.

Like that little bird on the mountain.

That reminder made his entire body stiffen before his lower lip trembled and he was squezzing his eyes shut for a different reason. What if Sanzo was dead and he didn't know it? Something told him this wasn't why Sanzo was late, but he couldn't stop thinking about it, or the many other things to make Sanzo be away longer than he said.

Like maybe he wasn't gonna return at all.

Or maybe he'd found someone else in a cave and didn't want him anymore.

Or maybe he WAS dead and Goku just didn't want to admit it.

Now all Goku could see was blood stained silk robes and sunshine bright hair stained dark. Limp arms and empty eyes. No voice to yell at him or call to him. Just... nothing. Goku shoved his head under the pillow to muffle the scream that ripped from his throat. Sanzo being nothing made everything inside him hurt. Sanzo being nothing...

Goku jerked himself off the bed, wriggled his toes into his shoes and ran for the door to the room. He had to get out of here! He had to find Sanzo now and make sure he wasn't dead! If Sanzo died, he had nothing. Why would Sanzo leave for so long? Why wouldn't he let Goku go with him? He reached the door and twisted the knob. It didn't budge. Frantic, he tugged and pulled and twisted. The doors that he once though were pretty with all their carvings and shiny surfaces, was now the most horrible thing in the world to him. It was keeping him in this dark, cold room, away from Sanzo.

A soft, frustrated sound came from him as he continued to struggle against the wood, the sounds of it creaking in protest encouraging him on. He had no idea how long he'd been going at it when he froze, hearing frantic voices outside the courtyard.

"Master!"

"Merciful Goddess... is that blood? Quick, run and fetch a doctor!"

Over these frantic, scary shouts, Goku heard a very familiar sound. It made his heat skip a rushing beat as there was the distinct snarl of, "Get off of me! I'm fine!" That was Sanzo! Goku raced to the window, muttering about how stupid he was to forget he'd come in that way to begin with, and practically fell down the cherry tree in his haste to get to Sanzo. The monks shouting had said there was blood. Did that mean Sanzo was hurt? He hoped not. If Sanzo was hurt, it was gonna be very bad for whoever did it!

He scraped his knees falling to the hard courtyard below, but picked himself up quickly as he saw the shape he'd know anywhere moving toward the open doors of the temple. "Sanzo! SANZO!"

Sanzo stopped, his shoulder hunched just slightly and with one of his arms held close to his chest. He hissed in pain as Goku threw his arms around the taller man's waist before shoving aside with a sharp growl. "What the hell are you doing up this late? And get the fuck off me!"

"I was worried, Sanzo! You said you'd only be gone for... what happened to you?" His eyes dropped to the dried blood that stained the paleness of Sanzo's robes. His eyes traveled back up to his friend's face and widened when they took in the small cut on his lower lip and the swollen bruise under his chin. And, when Sanzo shoved by him, he noticed for the first time that the taller man was limping.

"Master Sanzo, are you alright?" Dougan asked frantically, running down the hall while fixing his glasses. What kinda question was that? Sanzo was HURT!

"I'm fine," Sanzo gritted out between clenched teeth, fumbling one handed for the key inside his robes.

"No, you're not," Goku argued, earning him a glare that he didn't back down from. He was angry. Angry at whoever had hurt Sanzo. Angry that Sanzo hadn't let him come and protect him. Angry that he hadn't just gone after the man anyway. If he'd done what his gut told him to in the first place, Sanzo wouldn't be in pain.

"Can it, monkey!"

"Well, you're not! You look like crap," Goku insisted, eyebrows knitting at the horrifed expression on the other boy's face. What? It was the truth, after all. Sanzo looked really bad, so what was the big deal about him saying so?

"Master Sanzo said he's fine, Goku," Dougan snapped. "If he weren't, he'd just say so!"

Goku wanted to argue that point, but Sanzo's voice cut him off abruptly. "Dougan?"

"Yes, master?"

"I'm out of cigarettes."

That was all it took for the boy to go sprinting off, leaving them all alone. Goku's excitement at having Sanzo home had quickly vanished in his worry over how badly injured he was. He hoped it wasn't too serious. It took Sanzo a couple tries to get the key in the door, but he finally did it, shoving it open roughly as he continued to limp into the room. Goku followed and shut the door, glaring right back at his friend.

"I didn't say you could come in," Sanzo muttered, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.

"Nope, but I did anyway. An' if you want me out, you're gonna have to make me."

Giving one last narrow-eyed glare, the monk began to carefully remove his stained robes, wincing just slightly when it came to pulling the fabric down his unmoving arm. Goku went over and sat on the floor in front of him, watching intently. He wasn't gonna offer to help. He was too mad at Sanzo to WANNA help, not to mention Sanzo would be mad if he did. So, he waited and fidgeted until Sanzo was stripped down to his worn jeans.

Goku's eyes moved over every last bruise and cut that marred his friend. He knew there were more under the jeans, but they weren't as bad as these. Big, ugly welting bruises covered nearly the entire left side of his chest, deep claw marks that were crusted over in scabby blood circled his left arm. It looked like some crazy person had bitten his shoulder. Most of the injuries were on the left side of his body, and Goku knew that was pretty normal. Sanzo shot his gun with his right hand. He wouldn't want that being taken away from him.

Sanzo paused in undressing, flexing the fingers of his left arm hesitantly. They opened from their shakey fist, the nails cracked and broken as if he'd clawed at whoever had hurt him. His knuckles were nearly black with bruises. Goku moved closer, eyes wide. He touched the sores on the back of his friend's hand carefully, feeling the skin squish a little under his fingertips. Sanzo remained still and tense, watching him.

"What the hell are you doing, you creepy chimp? Stop groping me and get some damned bandages!"

Blinking, Goku pulled back. "I'm not a creepy chimp," he mumbled. He wasn't! He just wanted to make sure the bruises were real. He'd never seen Sanzo like this, and it made the different kinds of anger boil even hotter inside him. Part of him said it served Sanzo right to get beaten up for going out alone. Another part wanted to cry at seeing his friend in this condition. And, still a third part was fuming that he hadn't just followed Sanzo like he should have.

Quietly, Goku followed Sanzo's instructions for wrapping the bandages. As he did, he took the time to memorize exactly where each cut and bruise were placed, filing it away carefully for later. He waited until Sanzo was done checking the wrappings, stepping back just a little bit. His eyes hurt with the anger inside him and his fists balled up tightly at his side.

"Not bad for a monkey," Sanzo commented, flexing his hand carefully again. "Maybe you're not so-,"

_THUNK!_

"OW! Fucking... what the fuck is your problem? Stupid little-" Sanzo grimaced and reached down instinctively for the shin that Goku had just kicked.

_THUNK!_

"You little bastard, do you want to die?" Goku scurried a safe distance away from Sanzo's longer arms, spinning around to glare at the man rubbing his leg and blinking back what looked like tears of pain.

"You're so stupid, Sanzo," he shouted. "Goin' off an' not lettin' anyone come with you! You coulda DIED! You're stupid, an' cuz you're stupid you got hurt!"

Sanzo had stopped rubbing his leg, a look of shock mixed with really bad anger mixing on his face. "Look, you goddamn-,"

"I may be a monkey, but I ain't the stupid one here! YOU are! An' don't you ever try an' leave here again without me, ya got that? I'm not gonna let you get hurt like this again, not so long as I can stand up an' fight. That's not good, Sanzo! I'm not gonna leave you alone again!"

Violet eyes watched him silently as his chest rose and fell rapidly from his outburst. Goku's fingernails bit into his palms hard enough to hurt as he waited for the man to say something. He was probably gonna get hit with that fan and yelled at for what he did. He didn't care how many whacks he got or how long the yelling lasted, just so long as Sanzo never, EVER left without him again!

Goku flinched when Sanzo's hand came into view and dropped onto the top of his head. Long fingers curled around his hair, pulling just hard enough for him to really look at his friend again. Sanzo's eyes remained the same, all pretty and glittering, but there was something to them that was just a little warmer. Like the sun trying to force it's way through angry storm clouds. Goku could barely breathe he was so tense. Any minute now and that fan would come out and smack him. Any minute...

"If that's what you choose to do, I'm not going to stop you."

His shoulders relaxed and a grin split his face as relief flooded through him. He nodded eagerly, Sanzo's hand still resting on his head and moving with the bob. "Yeah, I wanna go with you."

"Fine." _WHACK!_

Goku blinked and stared up at angry violet eyes from the floor as his head exploded with pain. "Ow... Sanzo?"

"If you EVER call me stupid again, I'm shutting you up for good," Sanzo snarled before letting the fan swing down again.

Goku sprinted for the door, yelping as Sanzo literally threw that stupid paper fan at him on the way out. He was so quick to shut the door on the enraged man that he missed the faint smile and affectionately muttered, "Pain in the ass."

* * *

AUTHOR'S BIT: Gaahhh... did THIS morph into something completely different than I planned. I guess this plot bunny was desperate to get out. Anyway, hope everyone enjoyed!


	20. Hakkai 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is dedicated to Sanzo's Guardian Angel, who gave me the idea... and I turned the plot bunnies loose on it. Thank you, my dear, for that! And to the rest of you, I'm very sorry it's been so long in updating this. You know how fickle muses can be...

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There truly was nothing like fresh herbs to the senses. A palate of various green shades, ranging from near black to silver frosted, greeted the eyes. The textures could be soft, leafy and smooth to sharp enough to prick the skin gently. How they taste across the tongue when combined in various, unlimited ways. What I love most about cooking with fresh herbs though is the smell. It is a truly unique aroma, as only nature can produce. There is no perfume like it, no shampoo that comes close to replicating these delicious scents. It doesn't matter how much they boast and advertise the product as being like the real thing, it's not.

Today, I was making soup. Gojyo swore up and down, until he was nearly blue in the face in fact, that he didn't like soup. I had asked him, as kindly as possible, if he'd ever had soup that wasn't ramen related. The answer of the negative didn't surprise me really. In the short time I had been stealing his bed, I had come to learn that Gojyo was the most confirmed bachelor I'd ever met. If the food wasn't precooked, prepackaged or preserved, he wouldn't bother with it. Unfortunately for him, I had grown tired of ramen noodles and instant macaroni and cheese after about my third day of being on my back. Unfortunately for _me_, however, there wasn't very much I could do about it at the time.

Now, however, I was allowed to. Dr. Miri had come out yesterday afternoon to look me over and place a couple of stitches into my side after the incident with the rain. She and Gojyo had gotten into a familiar argument, this time concerning the fact he'd allowed me to garden a bit, before she'd declared me fit to walk and capable of light activities. She did request that I remain for at least another week so she could remove the stitches and then I could be on my way.

Little did she know that I had other plans. I couldn't wait another week. I'd waited several weeks too long as it was. There was still so much I needed to do. The tasks were ones that only I _could_ accomplish and, while I appreciated everything Gojyo had done for me, I couldn't remain any longer. Tonight's dinner of homemade soup, something he'd never had before, was going to be our last together. I would leave in the morning and, God willing that I survive, I would find some way to repay him for the kindess he'd shown to me. I still didn't understand what possessed him to carry a bleeding, broken stranger to his house and then slave away at keeping him alive, even going so far as to paying for the doctor to make house visits. I didn't believe him when he said Dr. Miri did it as a favor to an old friend. She was a very caring soul, but a caring soul didn't put bread on the table for the little ones.

I put the cilantro in a bowl to the side and began slicing neatly through the lemon grass next. All of these ingredients had been purchased in advance and used in other dishes. They were sealed tightly in plastic containers in the fridge so they didn't lose their aromatic properties, but knowing how Gojyo was, they would most likely continue to sit there long after I'd left. I couldn't let that happen to such lovely herbs. True, lemon grass and cilantro weren't traditional soup flavors, but they were the two I would be most aggrieved over if they rotted away in a refridgerator. So... we were going to have a slightly more exotic soup for dinner tonight. A fitting way to say good-bye.

Next on the list to chop would be the parsley. Parsley itself doesn't have a very enjoyable taste. It's a little too bitter or too woody, but it's a wonderful herb for controling the others. Parsley acts as a counter point to other, stronger herbs, lik the cilantro and lemon grass. I finished this and move on to the other basics for a soup: carrots, celery, onions, freshly shucked peas and the left over chicken from the other night. Everything (especially the onion) were cut quickly and to an appropriate size to be set aside while I retrieved the deepest pot Gojyo owned. At first, when I had poked through his kitchens and seen the near immaculate condition of his cookware, I'd assumed that perhaps he was a master chef who knew to take very good care of his tools. But... now I knew otherwise. The reason there were no scrapes, heat marks or other signs of regular use is because they didn't get used at all. Wait, I was wrong. _One_ was used out of the set below, and that was the pot used to boil water for his instant dinners. Mind you, not that they were bad or anything, and as a beggar I certainly wasn't being a chooser over a meal basically being handed to me. Cooking homemade meals for Gojyo was my very small way of thanking him, and I do mean _very_ small. He did, after all, buy the ingredients with his own money.

I put in enough water to serve as a base, added a little chicken fat I'd saved from that dinner and all the herbs and vegetables. Salt and pepper came next before I turned the whole thing on to a low simmer. A good soup took time to cook, and I had plenty of time for it. I had woken up much earlier than Gojyo and fixed a simple breakfast for myself of toast and tea. Gojyo had been out very late the night before, which meant the earliest he would surface from the couch would by around noon. Sure enough, a little past the noon hour, a bedraggled, groaning man rolled himself off the couch with a sharp thud and stood slowly, blinking tightly creased crimson eyes. His hair was a tangled mess and he ran fingers through it to loosen it just enough to pull back and away from his face.

He'd automatically gone to the fridge for milk. I set a clean bowl on the counter for him, smiling as he blinked in confusion and mumbled something about the plateware jumping out of the cupboards at him before pouring his cold cereal in and grabbing a spoon. He must have had a rough night if he was this out of sorts the following afternoon. I stirred up a cup of strong instant coffee and delivered it to the table, smiling an acknowledgment to the grunted thanks.

Neither of us said a word as we sat together. Gojyo was still trying to wake himself up, and I was too lost in thought on trying to find a suitable way of saying good-bye to him. I didn't have money to give to him. I couldn't do much repair work for his house, and I had just cleaned what I could the day before. It was while I was still thinking that Gojyo had spoken, and thus given me the inspiration for how to thank him.

"Looks like hot food weather outside," he mumbled, bleary eyes glancing out one of the small windows.

It took me a second to register what he had said before I, too, turned my gaze toward that same window. He was right, it did look like the type of weather that insisted upon a warm blanket, a cup of hot chocolate and perhaps even a book. Or, seeing as it was Gojyo, the book could be left aside for a friendly game of cards. The sun was hiding behind lingering rain clouds, the sky a grey that was more typical of winter than summer outside. I made a small noise of agreement, only half interested in the dull forecast.

"My old room mate, this massive cocksucker, had a really sweet girlfriend," Gojyo continued, a little smile of remembrance coming to his lips. He continued to stare out the window, unmindful of the few stray pieces of hair that escaped their elastic prison. "Don't ask me how such an asshole got such a nice girl, but he did. Anyway, she used to live a couple towns over, so when the weather wsn't so great she used to stay over until he could pull his drunk ass together and walk her home. She always used to cook and shit, saying that weather like this kinda called for it. Damn... I haven't had homemade food like that in forever!"

"What happened to her?" I asked, my attention now fully on him as the beginning of an idea began to churn out in my head.

His grin had become positively wicked as he turned to look at me. "She came over one day to find him fucking some other girl into the mattress."

My eyes widened slightly as a faint blush rose to my cheeks. He must have seen the quick dart of my eyes to the bed I had been occupying because he hastily added, "Not that one! Dude, I burned that thing when he left. The gods only know what he had on him!"

"My, he sounds rather... ah..."

"Nasty? Yeah, he was. But, he was good company when he wanted to be and was usually good for rent."

"And where is he now?"

Gojyo paused long enough to light a cigarette before shrugging and scratching his bare shoulder. "Hell if I know. He just up and vanished one day. Never saw his girlfriend again though. Kinda makes me sad. I don't know what she did to her food, but you couldn't just sit there and have one plate. And, it never came out the same way twice, but it was always so good. Gods, I miss that!"

And so, with that little story (omitting certain elements, of course) riding in my mind, I decided to make homemade chicken soup for Gojyo. I wasn't sure if mine would have the necessary legs to stand against the meals he remembered so well, but it was worth a try and it was the effort that truly mattered, right? So, I waited until he was dressed and gone for the afternoon, saying he would stop for some beer and to get some more bandages from Dr. Miri before coming back, and then forced myself into a standing position to set about making the soup.

As I waited for the base to start forming, I refilled the dented tea kettle with water and rinsed out my cup from the morning. Dr. Miri was the one who had brought over a very nice tea collection, informing Gojyo none too gently that instant coffee wasn't good for inflamed stomach tissues. Tea, while it contained caffeine, was more gentle on the gastral and digestive system. It was a very nice sampler box, too. There were three different types of green tea, a very pleasant mint, some chamomile and jasmine for relaxation, and one I'd never heard of before that Dr. Miri had added because it was her favorite. It was called mate vana, and had to be shipped in for special orders only. She said she was kept constantly in supply with it after having saved a royal official's daughter from a severe stomach disease. It had a rich, nutty flavor to it with hints of dark chocolate and an aroma that was both energizing and relaxing at the same time. I couldn't help the sad little smile that came as I spooned the last bit of the loose leaves into a filtered metal ball and set it in my cup to await the hot water. Since this would be my last night here, I would enjoy one last cup of a very fine tea.

I washed up the few dishes that were in the sink and was just beginning to dry them when the tea kettle gave a stuttered whistle. the stuttering came from the fact that the spout end was bent a bit more sharply, and not at all from natural design. I felt very sorry for the poor thing, having obviously been used visciously on a few occassions. The aroma of the mate vana hit my nose, and I inhaled happily and as much as the tightly healing wound in my side would allow. The stitches were to be removed tomorrow, which meant I was healed enough to leave if I chose. This filled me with a grim thrill as I thought about it. While I enjoyed Gojyo's company, I couldn't stay. I was a murderer. I was certain to be hunted down, and it wasn't fair to drag Gojyo through my mess. Besides... I still had something to do.

Kanan. I couldn't ever forget her, or the fact that I had left her body to rot in that prison. I hadn't really had a choice in the matter then, having been nearly ripped into utter agony from being turned into... what I was. I had been so blinded by the burning, searing pain of it that I really don't even remember what happened to the one who made me, or how I escaped, or even how I ended up several miles away in the middle of a road and bleeding to death. I don't remember how I ended up with power limiters either. So much lost and so much I still needed to do before I died. I sighed, fingers curling around the chipped tea cup before bringing it to my lips to sip slowly.

I finished my first cup and immediately poured a second. Loose tea was generally only good for a few cups, the water leaching any flavor from the already wet leaves by about the third. This cup wouldn't be as strong, but that was fine by me. I had a soup to finish after all. I found a slightly melted plastic spoon in a drawer and stirred the lightly bubbling mixture in the bottom of the soup. Little bits of chicken fat still bobbed around, but it was starting to melt a bit to judge by the oil spots rising to the top of the water. I found another spoon, this one meant for eating with, and tasted the broth. It wasn't half bad... but it needed a little garlic to it, and maybe just a dash more salt. I added just a hint of the garlic powder from the cupboard and a sprinkling of salt before stirring and tasting it again. Ahh... much better!

I found the lid for the pot and settled it on top, placing both the melted ladle and my spoon on a paper towel by the sink. I would give it another thirty minutes or so before giving it a stir to see how it was. In the mean time, Dr. Miri had brought over a few books she thought I might enjoy. I went through the small collection and decided on a favorite of mine that I hadn't read in ages. _Ishmael_, a book about a talking gorilla and his observations of the human culture. Yes, it sounds a bit fantastical, but the writing and thought behind it is stunning, not to mention it's a fairly quick read.

Settling down on the bed, my head and shoulders slightly propped by the gathering of pillows, I opened the book and let my fingers travel down the well bent spine. I could almost forget that this wasn't my home or my bed, so natural was the act of just enjoying an afternoon in a familiar place with normal, everyday activities. It was strange to feel so at once comfortable and at home in a place I barely knew. But... I guess that was the thing that made saying good bye to Gojyo the most painful. He had a warmth to him that was completely natural and open. Something told me not many people would associate that with him, given his habits and life style. It saddened me that I was, perhaps, part of an elite and priveledged group that has been blessed to experience his generosity.

And, to express all that, I was making him soup and disappearing from his life?

I looked up from the book and felt a tiny frown come to my brow. I was confused about where that derailment in my thoughts had come from. True, it saddened me to be leaving, but... I had to. I had so much to do and so many people wanted to see me dead. I only had to avoid them for a little longer, and then if they found me I wouldn't stop them from killing me. I deserved it a thousand times over, not Gojyo. If I stayed here, I would only be putting him at risk. My lips twisted into a bitter smirk as I rethought the last. A thousand times over... a thousand deaths deserved for a thousand lives taken. I was certain that those whose lives I'd taken were waiting for me in the fires of hell to ensure I received all that and more. And... I welcomed it, gladly and with open arms.

"This is rather depressing talk," I said to myself, shaking my head and trying to refocus on the words before me. I at least had to try and be a little more cheerful, if only for Gojyo's sake. This was a good bye, yes, but it didn't need to be a depressing occassion. He was bringing back some beer, we were having a home cooked meal for a change, and an evening of cards perhaps. Or movies, though I was hesitant of suggesting it to my savior. Gojyo's movie selection was... ah... eclectic, for lack of a better word. There were a couple titles he'd insisted I watch that I was pleasantly surprised to find were very good, but for the most part he enjoyed bloody, graphic action movies and... well, that just hit a little too personal a note for me.

The time wore on, afternoon drifting into early evening. I rose occassionally to stir the soup, test the seasoning, add a little cornstarch to thicken it. It was turning out rather good, if I did say so myself. I waited until about five-thirty to start cooking the rice noodles to add to the broth, estimating that Gojyo would probably be back relatively close to six or six-thirty. He had probably stopped off to say hello to some of his friends at the local bar, which was to be expected. He did have a life outside of caring for me, after all. I left the rice noodles a little under done to allow them to finish cooking inside the soup pot and absorb some of the flavors.

As I set the table, I glanced at the clock with mild trepidation. It was six o'clock already. Gojyo was running later than I had anticipated. No matter, the soup could simmer for a bit longer. I finished setting the table and returned to the kitchen to retrieve the napkins and crackers from the cabinet. Those were added to the table before I returned one more time to adjust the heat under the soup. After that, I sat down and waited.

At seven, I had no choice but to turn the burner off. Any longer and the soup would begin to burn along the bottom. I waited until about seven thirty before my growling stomach finally got the better of me and I served myself the still warm soup. Apparently, Gojyo had decided to extend his trip into town a little later than expected. It didn't bother me in the least. Like I said, he had friends and a life that most certainly didn't include me, and I wouldn't begrudge him that. It was just... I was worried about him. He'd said he'd only be gone for a few hours. What if something had happened to him? I sighed, shaking my head again as I cleared my place settings from the table and took them to the kitchen to wash.

The night wore on, and I couldn't help glancing at the rather absurd black-and-white cat clock that hung in the kitchen as it meowed off the hours past. My worry was becoming more and more solid the longer Gojyo was away, but I choked it back by rationalizing that Gojyo knew very well how to take care of himself. It was perfectly natural to worry after him, of course, as he had become a very dear... aquaintance... in the short time that we'd known each other. I disliked using the word aquaintance, but it seemed rather presumptuous of me to call him a friend. No matter the term applied, it didn't change the concern I had for him.

I continued with the routine that had been established over the last few weeks. Brush my teeth and awkwardly change into the pajamas Dr. Miri had insisted Gojyo procure for me. It consisted of a button up shirt and loose, draw string pants that sat low enough on my hips not to hinder or irritate my wound. After brushing my teeth, it was time to take my medicine. Three different antibiotics, an anti-inflamatory, two painkillers and a sleeping pill. Then, to settle down to read while I waited for the sleeping pill to kick in. It usually took only about a half hour before I was so out of it I could barely think enough to mark my place, but tonight it took longer than usual. I supposed it was due to my being nervous over Gojyo's long absence. He'd gone out before, but he'd always been back around this time.

Sighing, I finally had to stretch out as the sleeping pill at last kicked in and the room began to look fuzzier than my poor eye-sight already made it. I closed my eyes and readjusted the pillows so that I could lay prone on the bed. Sleep found me mere seconds after my head touched the pillow and I was suddenly tossed into the nightmares that always followed close behind the shutting of my eyes. All I ever saw in my freams anymore was blood and destruction. All I ever smelled was rot and death. Blood, death, chaos... these were what comprised my dreams every single night and what would ultimately make me wake up with a scream choking me and tears burning my eyes.

Tonight, though, something else woke me up. That something else was shouted cusses and thumping around on the front stoop. At first, the noises blended with my dreams so that even as I opened my eyes slowly, it still felt like I was trapped in the nightmarish haze. Someone struggling with keys as they tried to insert them into the dead bolt was what finally woke me up completely. I sat up, still groggy from the medication and completely baffled as to what was going on. A squinted glance at the glowing numbers on the entertainment unit told me it was now a little after three in the morning. Three in the morning? What in the world...

My confusion was soon answered as, with a triumphantly slurred mixture of words, the door finally opened... and spilled Gojyo and a young woman across the ground. The girl yelped in pain as Gojyo fell directly on top of her. His response was a groaned, "Fuuuck... my head!"

I blinked, unsure what exactly to make of this. At first, I had assumed that perhaps they were getting to know each other... a little mroe intimately. But, as I observed the girl shoving Gojyo off her roughly, I noticed that she seemed completely sober while he was so far gone with alcohol he would have been useless anyway. "Gojyo?" I asked, pulling my legs carefully from under the covers.

The girl blew a dark brunette curl from her eyes, giving the red head who was now groaning and wincing on the floor a final shove. Her mouth screwed into a grimace of annoyance before she looked in my direction, not seeming to care that she was flashing me more breast than could possibly be decent. It was enough that I could tell she didn't believe in the fashion faux pas of wearing a black bra under a white shirt, and that it was made of sheer mesh, which really wasn't practical given the cooling in temperature. Her bright blue nails clicked against the floor as she drummed them impatiently, one dark brow quirking her demand. "Well, are ya gonna just sit there or haul his ass up?" she asked sharply.

"Oh... yes. I'm sorry," I said, moving as quickly as I could. It wasn't until I was crouched on the other side of Gojyo that I suddenly remembered the restrictions on how much I could lift. To disobey doctor's orders now would only delay my departure further.

"What are ya waitin' for?" the girl snapped, getting to her feet on heeled shoes that looked lethal. How she managed to walk from town to here while practically carrying him was a miracle!

"I'm sorry, miss..." I let my voice trail off as I waited for her to supply a name.

"Misaki."

"Miss Misaki. Unfortunately, I'm under orders from the doctor not to do any heavy lifting. So, you see..."

Misaki rolled her eyes, cocking one hip to place her hand on it as she gave me a withering glare. "For fuck's sake... Ya've gotta be shittin' me, honey! First, Gojyo gets too drunk to do a goddamn thing. Then, we get here and I find he's got some guy shacked up with him. Now ya're trying to tell me ya can't even get his ass to bed? Un-fuckin'-believable!"

I cringed a little at her rant as I shrugged my apology once again. "I do appreciate your assistance in getting him this far," I added, hoping to smooth over her bad temper. "And, if I were in better condition I would never dream of imposing on your good graces-,"

"-Save the fancy words, honey. I get it. Goddamn ya, Sha Gojyo... If ya weren't packing the hottest piece a' meat in town, I wouldn't put up with this bullshit!"

I barely had time to process what exactly she'd said and felt my cheeks burn up when she jerked Gojyo's limp arm up and over her shoulder. He was a little helpful when his legs found a little purchase under himself. He groaned as his head snapped back, eyes completely closed. "Shit," he mumbled. His voice was so thickly slurred it was hard to understand him. "Can't... go..."

"We already left, baby," Misaki grumbled as she dumped him ungracefully onto the sofa. She was out of breath as she stood, pausing a few seconds before she landed a solid whack to the side of his head. "An' that's for making me walk my ass all the way back home in the dark!"

"No... fuck... don't let 'im... go..."

Misaki wasn't the only one to freeze at the words. "Him?" she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"Me?" I asked at the same time, blinking in confusion. Well, of course I wasn't leaving right now! Gojyo was in absolutely no condition to be left alone.

Gojyo surprised both of us by giving a drunken snicker, his eyes cracking open just enough so I could see his eyes glittering dully with triumphant. "Can't say... g'bye... 'less I'm... sober... nuff ta hear it..."

Misaki caught on just a split second sooner than I did. My eyes widened as his head dropped back and his eyes closed for good, a soft snore parting his lips. Misaki's fists shook with rage and, before I could stop her, she layed an open handed slap across Gojyo's cheek. "Ya son of a bitch! Ya got this drunk on purpose? Fine, keep yar fucking boyfriend! I'm going home, and don't you DARE ever buy me a drink again, Sha Gojyo!"

The door slammed shut and shook the windows as she stomped off into the night. I was still too surprised to chase after her and insist that she return to stay until it was safe. Gojyo... purposely got this drunk. He'd known I was planning to leave... how in the world did he know I was getting ready to leave? I hadn't said anything to him about it, nor did I think I'd given any other clues to my intent either. I suppose it was just that uncanny ability he had of reading people and predicting what their next move would be. He'd known I wouldn't leave without saying a proper goodbye. He'd known... and he'd prolonged that time by getting completely obliterated so that a goodbye would be impossible. He didn't want me to leave. He didn't...

But why? I didn't understand why he would do that. I was just some strange man he'd found bleeding in the road. He still didn't know my name or my past, but... he didn't seem to care. There was no motive I could think of behind his foolish actions other than he didn't want me to leave him yet. It wasn't the act of a kind Samaritan looking after his guest. This was more the act of... a friend. A friend. Was that how he saw me?

Still slightly dazed, I pulled the blanket draped over the back of the couch down and over him, removing his shoes as an after thought. Slowly, I made my way back over to the bed. I lay down and turned my head to stare at the bare feet and soft snores coming from his side of the room. As I listened to him, I couldn't help but smile and shake my head as realization dawned on me. Gojyo...

Gojyo was a dear friend, but I had a feeling he was in the habit of doing rather silly things. Like getting drunk to the point of losing consciousness just so to keep me from saying goodbye to him. It was an incredibly extreme action... but it had done it's job. I really couldn't leave until I made certain he would be alright.

After all, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't look out for him?


	21. Talking Through Doors

Author's Note: FINALLY! FF net's gonna let me post it! Anyway, sorry for the long break, everybody! I was sick, went on vacation, got sick again with bronchitis/pneomonia... it's been a crazy month or two. So, here's a new bit for you, the concept having sprung up from ANOTHER fanfiction I've been working on for ages. Enjoy!

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"You are such a complete and total idiot! If I thought beating it into you would help, I'd do it! How many fucking times have I told you to THINK before you act? What in the hell _were_ you thinking when you did that? Never mind... I don't want to know. For the love of the gods, Goku, do you have any idea what kind of trouble you've stirred up?"

Goku cringed as Sanzo continued to pace back and forth in front of him, shouting louder than he'd ever thought the man could. His fingers were curled and worrying his pants into messy knots as the monk continued to rant with blazing violet eyes. Sanzo was beyond really mad at him. Sanzo was SCARY mad!

"As if I didn't have enough to do, now I've got all your shit to clean up," Sanzo snarled, pausing to slam his palms down hard enough on his desk to set the papers jumping. He picked up a stack and waved them an inch from Goku's nose. "See these? These are all complaints registered against you to the town magistrate! And these?" He dropped the first pile and offered up another, thicker stack. "These are all the bills the temple is now going to have to pay because of your goddamn ignorance! And these?" He lifted yet another stack, this one not quite as big as the other two. "These are all the fucking morons I'm now going to have to apologize to because YOU DON'T FUCKING THINK BEFORE YOU ACT!"

Goku cowered away at the new volume Sanzo was demonstrating, tears stinging his eyes as he looked away from his friend. His entire body was trembling sharply as he scrunched his eyes closed, tucking his head down to his chest so Sanzo couldn't see him cry. He really hadn't meant to cause so much trouble. It had been an accident, honestly! He opened his mouth to say so, but all that managed to come out was a little squeak of sound.

Sanzo hadn't heard the noise and continued shouting at him. "And then you ran away for three days! Three FUCKING DAYS! No one knew where you were! You weren't coming back for meals! I searched the entire goddamn forest by myself for your sorry ass, and what did I find out? You'd been hiding in the forest the whole fucking time! I want to know why the hell you didn't come straight to me when this happened!"

Once again, he tried to find his voice, but it had disappeared. He'd never felt like this before with Sanzo! It was fear, something he didn't like at all, and it was worse because it was his very best friend who was making him scared. It wasn't just that, though. It was something else... like he was sad that he'd made Sanzo so angry, and that Sanzo had to do all that just because of him. He wanted to run away again, somewhere far away where he didn't have to bother Sanzo any longer. He ventured to peek through his hair up at Sanzo. He flinched when he saw the really hot anger in his eyes, but there was something else there too that he'd never seen before. Something... that wasn't angry.

What was that? He didn't know what to call it, but it wasn't mean or angry. It almost looked sad, like Sanzo's feelings were hurt. It made Goku feel a hundred times worse to think that he'd made Sanzo sad. The look he couldn't name disappeared as Sanzo raised one eyebrow (something he really wished he knew how to do!) and let the anger take over completely. "I'm waiting. Are you going to start talking, or am I going to beat it out of you? Why the hell did you run away?"

Goku opened his mouth. He opened his mouth and tried to talk and it was like his voice wouldn't work. It was like his tongue was all dry and his throat was all tight. It hadn't happened until he'd been brought in front of Sanzo and been yelled at and seen how upset his friend was. Suddenly, Goku understood why he couldn't talk. It was because he was looking at Sanzo! If he didn't have to look at Sanzo, he could talk! Eager to test his idea, Goku began to shuffle quickly for the door.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Hey! Get back here, Goku, I am NOT done with you yet!" Sanzo's quick footsteps came after him. Goku cringed and whined as a hand closed hard on his shoulder and spun him around hard. The long fingers dug in almost painfully, but they eased when Goku began to shiver uncontrolably. "No more running away, Goku. Start talking now!" Sanzo's voice was still angry, but he wasn't shouting anymore.

Swallowing even though he didn't have any spit or food in his mouth, Goku tried twice before he managed to squeeze out, "I...just wanna stand on th' other side of th' door."

Sanzo's eyes narrowed as he gave Goku a really confused look. "What? Why?"

"C-Cuz... cuz I wanna. Can I? Please?"

Violet eyes narrowed even further briefly before closing as he released Goku, shoulder sagging as if he was worn out. "Fine. But if you pull any of that running away shit, you better hope to the gods I don't catch you!"

Goku nodded and swallowed again as he continued to the door, opening it just enough to slip out before shutting it again. He pressed his back to the wall with the pretty picture stretched all across it and waited until he heard the creaking of the floor boards that meant Sanzo was by the door. Slowly, he slid down the wall until he was hugging his knees, taking a few deep breaths like Sanzo always told him to so that he could calm down. He couldn't see Sanzo glaring at him now. He didn't have to see how upset he'd made Sanzo. Slowly, he opened his mouth to try speaking again and was happy when his voice finally came out.

"I... I'm sorry about what happened. I was only tryin' ta help that guy with his field! He said ta pull up all th' plants, an' I didn't know that th' stone fence meant I was in someone else's field. An' I didn't know I wasn't supposed ta eat th' stuff either. I was really hungry after pullin' up all those veggies, an' the carrots looked really good. Then, when they got mad, I left an' I saw another guy in another field, only it was different than the other two fields, an' he was hurtin' that poor horse! He kept beatin' it an yellin' at it, an' I felt really bad for it... so I snuck in an' let it outta th' barn. Th' horse looked so happy, Sanzo! But... th' guy wasn't and he chased me with those really big fork thingies.

"An' when I was runnin' from him, I met that old lady on th' road an' she asked if I could get her cat outta the tree. Well, you told me cat's always land on their feet, so I figured if I climbed up an' threw the cat down it'd be okay cuz it'd land on it's feet. It landed on some other lady walkin' by, an' it really scractched her bad. But it landed on its feet, just like you said! I felt REALLY bad about th' lady, cuz she'd been really pretty before th' cat went an' scratched her, an' I told her that. Then she hit me with her umbrella! Sanzo... I've gotta big hole in th' back of my head cuz of that stupid umbrella! An' then SHE started chasin' me, so I had to run through that fancy bath tub place. It was full of naked LADIES! Sanzo, have YOU ever seen a naked lady? They're scary, an' they got so mad at me! They started screamin' an' throwin' stuff at me... an' that's when those guys showed up tellin' me my name was Tom an' that I was a dirty sumthin'-or-other. I tried tellin' them that my name was Goku an' that I'd just had a bath but I'd been helpin' out those farmers, but they wouldn't listen to me an' said they were gonna lock me up for good! An' Sanzo... I didn't wanna get locked up again. I don't ever wanna be locked up again! So... I hit 'em both an' went into th' forest to hide.

"I didn't mean ta get lost in th' forest, either. Honest, I didn't! I heard you callin' me, an' I tried to follow your voice but it was gettin' dark an' I... I was scared. So, I hid in a cave an' figured you'd come find me tomorrow cuz YOU knew where I was. Then, ya didn't come an' I got really scared an' started walkin' around. An' that's when th' monks found me an' brought me back. I'm really, really, really, REALLY sorry! I know I'm stupid an' I do stupid things, but I really did try an' think about what I was doin' an'-,"

Goku gulped and flinched as an afterthought when he felt Sanzo slide down to sit next to him on the floor. His eyes went really wide as he began to shake all over again. When did Sanzo open the door? Why was he sitting next to him when he was angry? Was Sanzo going to send him away for good this time? Goku glanced over nervously as the familiar sounds and smell of Sanzo lighting a cigarette filled the narrow hall way.

"First of all, you're not stupid," Sanzo said in the tone of voice that meant Goku was to listen and pay attention. "I know you can be smart when you want to be, you just make some really bad decisions sometimes. Second of all, don't EVER throw a cat. Cat's are nasty creatures anyway, and throwing them just pisses them off. Third of all, what the hell makes you think I've seen a naked woman, or that I even want to? They're scary enough with their clothing on."

Goku couldn't help the snicker that snuck free from his mouth at that. He shot a quick, worried glance at Sanzo and was relieved to see his friend smiling just slightly. Okay... Sanzo had meant it as a joke. That meant he wasn't mad any more. Good! "Fourth," Sanzo continued, the smile leaving his face so that his look was now very serious. "If anyone says they're going to lock you up for good, they're going to have to go through me first. I took you out, and I'm not going to let anyone put you back in, understand?"

He nodded as tears came to his eyes again at the thought of being put back in that horrible, dark cave. He believed Sanzo when he said he wouldn't let that happen. Sanzo always did what he said he was gonna do.

"Last thing before I start cleaning this shit up; the _minute_ you get in trouble, you come immediately back to the temple. No more running away. No more hiding. You come and get me."

"I didn't run away or hide on purpose though, Sanzo. I got lost!"

"In which case you need to scream louder so I can hear you, monkey. Now, get up and get cleaned up. You smell like shit."

Goku stuck his tongue out at the monk before quickly rolling across the ground to avoid the fan that slapped against the wall. "Haha! Ya missed me!"

"You little... You've got ten seconds to get in that tub before I papercut your ass with the fan!"

As Goku hurried down the hall with a yip in response to the threat, Sanzo's head thunked back against the wall as a low, agonized groan broke from him. He thought about all the stacks of papers waiting for his response... and decided to fuck it off in favor of getting even with the brat for giving him a raspberry.


	22. Gojyo 6

So... today was the day.

I knew it by the smell of nicely burned bacon, followed quickly by the scent of freshly brewed coffee. It did things to my stomach that only the most skilled of ladies were ever able to do. It set my sleep parched mouth watering and even caused one eye to crack open against the dingy sunlight being filtered through a pull-down blind. I inhaled deeply, catching a trace of maple syrup and butter. Pancakes... yum. When I heard the distinctive sound of eggs hitting a hot pan, that's when it all clicked. My guest was cooking a breakfast feast for us to have. He was probably using all the fresh ingredients in the house, knowing that I would probably just let them collect mold in the fridge if he didn't. He was also probably thinking to fill me up well and good so that I didn't need to worry about lunch or dinner.

Which meant he obviously wasn't going to be around to cook dinner.

Just like that, all the good things my stomach was grumbling about went sour. The greasy, delicious smell of bacon intermingled with the sharp bitterness of coffee smelled rank. The muted sunlight earned a glare for infecting my eye. Pancakes and syrup had all the appeal of eating another guy's nasty boxers. And you don't even want to know how the sound of eggs made me feel. Really, you don't.

I don't really know why his leaving made me feel like shit. Maybe it was because I'd invested a helluva lot into keeping his ass alive. Maybe it was because I didn't know a damn thing about him. Or maybe it was because, for the first time in years, I actually had someone that could almost count as a "friend". Oh, sure, I'd had plenty of girls and plenty of roommates... but friends? Not really. Well, technically, I guess Banri kinda counted. I mean, the guy was a total wanking dick, but he was good at keeping the blues away. He was also a pretty good drinking buddy, though he wasn't so good about going dutch on a bill. The bastard owed me more beer than he could sell his soul for, but that was cool with me. He was someone to talk to, right?

Until I found Bleeding Guy on the road, I would have been fine with that. But now... Damn. This guy seemed to genuinely give a damn about me. Yeah, I saved his life, and yeah, it was great having someone with mad domestic skills in the house. But that wasn't all he did. He cleaned and cooked and did all that shit because he felt he owed me. He didn't have to ask how my day was. He didn't have to listen to me bitch about poor winnings, or smile so fucking politely when I told him about what a good time it was at the bar. He didn't have to wait for me to get in before falling asleep. Oh, he said he didn't, but I knew better. I wasn't so drunk off my ass that I didn't notice the quick flash of moonlight in green eyes before they were quickly shut, pretending sleep. Fine, whatever. If he wanted to keep that illusion up, that was fine with me.

It was those things that both made me happy and confused the hell outta me. Why would he sit there and listen with a sympathetic look on his face when I mentioned how shitty the cards were? Why would he smile and shake his head, sometimes even rolling his eyes in humor, at the stupid stories I told? And why the _hell_ wouldn't he sleep until I was home? He had to have some reason for all this, a motivation of some kind. Did he think he had to, just to be polite? Or maybe he was just casing me out, calculating how much I brought in in order to steal it. He was a smart cookie. He could keep track of things like that.

I groaned and slapped myself across the cheek for that. Gods... I was a fucking paranoid mess without some caffeine in my system! There was no way this guy was a thief. He wasn't selfish enough for it. Banri was... but not Bleeding Guy. Yeah, that's what I changed his name to, seeing as he couldn't seem to keep himself together long enough to keep from bleeding on my damn floor. The polite stuff... yeah, maybe. He would be the type to pretend interest just to be nice, but my gut was telling me this wasn't the case here. Bleeding Guy wasn't fake enough for that.

Of course, none of this helped the fact that this was gonna be our last meal together. The pysche-out hadn't worked a damn bit. Shit! I wondered briefly if maybe I pretended to be sick... no, he wouldn't buy it. I hadn't been out in the last day or so, not since I got wrecked to the point that I was sick, forcing him to stay just to make sure I was okay. That one wouldn't work this time around though, and faking illness wouldn't fly either. So... this was it.

This was good-bye. Fan-fucking-tastic.

I stayed on the couch just a little longer, convincing myself that it was because I'd found a nice spot and not because I was postponing the inevitable. Plates were set out, along with the rarely used forks and knives. The chopsticks were probably in the sink to be washed. The sharp tang of orange juice filtered through my senses as it was poured into glasses. I snuggled down further and punched my stomach to get it to shut the hell up.

"Isn't it a little early for self-abuse?" an amused voice chuckled from the table.

I somehow managed to turn my groan at being discovered awake into a sleepy sigh. "Too early to be up. Go. Sleep. Now," I muttered, affecting an exhausted tone pretty damn well.

Obviously, the acting wasn't good enough to fool him. "Clearly it's not too early for you to be hitting yourself. A slap to the face and a punch to the gut? Normally, a steaming cup of coffee and eggs works better, or at least that's what I was told."

Damn him for being so goddamn cheerful about all this. Just... damn him. We both knew he wasn't going to stay much longer, and here he was cracking jokes to lighten the mood. If he was tying to sooth my hurt feelings, he didn't have to. I was used to people running out on me, though admittedly I was kinda hoping he wouldn't join the long list. If he was trying to make himself feel better... I wish to the gods he didn't. I wanted him to chicken out, maybe stay for...

For what? Another few hours? A day? Just how the hell long did I really think he was gonna stay with me? There wasn't much here for a guy like him. A small town, quiet and with nothing really but a couple bars and a decent farmer's market. A run down little house that was three rooms, counting the kitchen and the bathroom. A gambling halfbreed who was usually never home unless the lady of the evening didn't have a place to go to. Honestly, what was I thinking? This guy was beyond smart. He was polite, nice, a freakin' amazing cook... and he had a death wish. Once he left here, we both knew he was just going to die somewhere.

Part of me was pissed about that. I mean, I carried him on my fucking back, with one hand holding his goddamn intestines in place. All this during the rain, of course. I literally held him together on more than one occassion. It was my own goddamn stubbornness that had kept him alive, and he was gonna just go and die? And I was gonna just _let_ him? What kinda hypocrite was I? The balls on this guy, letting me save his life and then saying, 'oh, I think I want to die now'! What an _asshole!_

Then, there was the part of me that was jealous. Sick, right? Me, being jealous of a guy about to die? There were three times in my life that I should have just died. The first was when I was born. If I hadn't been, then my dad couldn't have taken me to live with the rest of the family. Jien would have still been an only child and my mother wouldn't have gone crazy.

The second was when my mother broke out the axe. I was ready then, for sure. I mean, she'd stopped crying when she held the thing over her head. Her cheeks were wet from the tears earlier, but after she found that axe and was standing over me... it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Her eyes dry and a little smile to her face. I'd wanted that more than anything and was ready to die for it.

The third time was after I'd run from the house, crying and pissing myself like a fucking baby. I'd left Jien to clean things up, like a goddamn coward. I'd been confused and had been wandering around for a full week in the woods before I somehow found the local youkai village, where my dad spent about ninety percent of his time. Dad wasn't there... but some drunks were. I still had a scar just underneath my hair where one had tried to scalp me with a broken beer bottle. All I could remember of that evening was being so cold I couldn't feel the blood dripping into my eyes, so tired that laying face down in a gutter didn't seem so bad and so hungry that the garbage in there tasted better than anything I'd ever eaten. That was when the stubbornnes kicked in. Jien always said I got it from dad. Who knew that worthless bastard had something worth passing on?

So, three times I faced death, and three times it was denied to me. This guy had survived once, and it was all thanks to the same thing that had saved me. I knew once he was out that door, there wouldn't be another chance, not without some kind of divine intervention. Sure, I could follow him... but did I really have the right to? I knew better than most what it felt like to just wanna die, just stop living and let death settle in place. I'd saved his life because I hadn't known he thought like that. Now, though... it was his choice, and I couldn't stop him. A stubborn nature wouldn't do shit against a soul determined to die.

I finally rolled off of the couch, yawning and running my fingers through my hair. I made all the right words, commenting on how great everything looked and making yummy sounds for all the food. Bleeding Guy smiled and played along with the act. Honestly, I couldn't begin to tell you if the coffee burned my mouth or if the pancakes were delicious. The only reason I knew the bacon was hot was because it was steaming. He could have cracked a raw, rotten egg on my plate and I still would have said it was awesome and swallowed it down. I dragged it out as long as possible, eating every piece of tasteless food as slowly as I could, drinking more coffee than I usually did in an entire week. He let me do it, and I wasn't sure if it was because he was trying to humor me or stretching out the inevitable for just a little while longer.

Bleeding Guy cleared the table and rinsed all the dishes. I saw him reach for a towel to dry his hands, pausing in mid motion before turning on the sink once again and plugging it up. Soap was added, the strainer pulled out, and still I wasn't sure who he was stalling for. Was it because he was afraid to leave, or was it because he knew I wouldn't wash the damn dishes? Not until they started looking real funky, that is. Whatever it was, I couldn't help feeling a little smug. Either scenario suited me just fine, really. I stood from the table, yawning again as I trudged back into the living room. I scooped my smokes off the table before opening the small closet and pulling out fresh clothing. Boxers, jeans and a t-shirt, all of them neatly folded and smelling like clean soap.

A quick trip to the bathroom to brush my teeth, pull my hair back and dress had me out in time to catch him putting something into one of the paper grocery bags. It looked like that small gardening shovel he'd asked me to get. Why he'd need there where he was going, I didn't know. I lit a cigarette, flicking the zippo closed sharply so that he knew I was in the room. Bleeding Guy jerked upright and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He knew he'd been caught, but we were both being gentlement about this whole thing. I pretended I hadn't noticed and he went back to finishing the dishes.

I sat down on the beat up folding chair that was next to the small table tucked close to the bed. The table had originally been in the living room, but was moved bed side when Bleeding Guy needed to reach easily for medication, water and a book. I took up the pack of beat up cards sitting in the middle of the table and began shuffling the cards thoroughly. "Wanna play a hand or two?" I called over my shoulder, glancing up when I heard floor boards creaking closer than I'd thought.

Bleeding Guy gave me his sad smile as he sat cross legged on the bed. "I think that would be lovely, if you don't mind," he answered.

"If I minded, I wouldn't have asked. Five card draw, no wilds no bets. Best hand wins." He nodded as I began dealing out the cards, cigarette clenched between my teeth. The first hand went quickly enough. It seemed my luck was right down with my mood. My hand was lousy at best. His wasn't much better, but it was enough to win. No worries, there were still plenty of cards to be dealt.

Seven hands of straight losses later, and I was getting pretty pissed with Lady Luck. Turned out she wasn't so much of a lady as a total whore with a penchant for pretty men with green eyes. The bitch. Finally, disgusted with myself and my luck, I slapped my last losing hand onto the table and ground out my third cigarette of the morning. "Okay, man, so what gives? I do this for a living, y'know!"

Bleeding Guy smiled and laughed warmly, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I've always been rather good with games of this kind. It's not too hard to count the cards... though I do suppose a fair amount of luck is needed as well."

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair. "Counting cards, eh? I knew you were cheating."

"Technically speaking, counting the cards isn't cheating. It's done in one's head, so-"

I snorted, shaking my head. "One's head? You're one of those smart guy types, aren't you?"

Bleeding Guy stiffened hesitantly, glancing down at his hands. "Is that a bad thing?"

I shook my head negatively, picking up my pack of cigarettes and tapping one out. "Nope, not at all. So, what, you're a jack of trades, master of none?"

He smiled and shrugged a little, eyes lowered to hide the fact that he was sad. I'd seen the look more than enough times to know what it meant. Today though... it solidified my certainty that he wasn't gonna be in my house much longer. "That sounds about right," he answered, glancing up at me.

I lit up, blowing the smoke away from him and flashed him a teasing smile and wink. "Yeah, me, too." His laugh, a genuine sound of amusement, cut right to me and made me laugh softly under my breath in response. My chest got all tight at the thought that after today, the house was going to be silent. No one waiting for me, no one to talk to... It was going to suck. Before I'd found him, I would have been fine with the silence. Now, I didn't think I'd get by with it. Silence was all well and good, but loneliness wasn't. It was gonna be lonely without him there.

I glanced up as he sighed, frowning when I noticed his gaze lingering on my hair. The most painful look flinched across his face before he turned away to look out the window. "Forgive me, but just now... you hair and eyes... they reminded me of blood." I barely contained the hiss of breath that wanted to escape. He... he saw blood in my hair, too? Wow. It felt weird, hearing those words from him. Weird because I was surprised someone else saw it the way I did. Weird because, in a way, this felt almost like listening to a confession. I waited silently as he closed his eyes tightly before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"It reminds me of... the blood I spilled. Of my sins." His fingers curled into tight fists against the blankets, his entire body trembling under a pain I could only begin to imagine. Whatever this guy had been through had destroyed him. It was written all over his person. There was no way he was gonna live while shredded apart like he was. It made my stomach sink hard to know that, while I'd saved his body, I hadn't actually saved his life. He was dying from the inside out.

"You've been so kind to me, Gojyo," he continued, smiling wearily at me. I didn't have the strength to answer it back, now that I knew this was the beginning of good-bye. "You healed me, let me stay in your home... and all without asking anything about who I am or how I came to be as you found me."

I shrugged sullenly, scuffing my foot against a floor board that was bending from of its nail. "None of that was important, y'know? I saw a guy bleeding to death in the rain and took him home. Not that I'll _ever_ pick up a strange guy again, okay?"

He smiled and shook his head a little. "Point taken. Thank you, though. For everything. I really wish I had some way to repay you for this."

The brief thought of asking him to stay flashed through my mind, only to be dismissed immediately. That wouldn't be a fair thing to ask him, not with death haunting his eyes. I was about to answer with something smart and quippy when I remembered what I had stashed under my bed. I leaned forward, stretching my arm past the porno magazines and ignoring his confused look. "I guess I should be giving this back to you," I explained, handing over the object I'd pulled out.

It was the watch he'd had on him, the one that was dented and scarred and with the hands stopped oh-so precisely. His jaw dropped and his fingers shook as he hesitantly traced the contours of the cracked face. "You... you kept it?" he choked out.

"Well, it seemed important to me. Why else would a smart guy carry a broken watch?" I mumbled, embarassed suddenly to be seeing a grown man so close to tears.

Bleeding Guy clutched the watch so tightly that his fingers blanched white, his entire body curling in around it hard. "This... This was what she gave me for my first day of teaching," he whispered, his voice filled with such raw emotion it hurt to hear. "That day, when she was taken... I-I don't know... I just... killed them. Over a thousand of them. I-I..."

I leaned forward and rubbed his shoulders soothingly. "Hey, it's okay, man. I get it, probably better than you think."

He turned to me slowly, eyes completely lost and swollen red with unshed tears. "Then you understand why I have to go."

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Nodding, he tucked the watch carefully into his pants pocket and stood up. "I suppose... I guess I should leave now. Good-bye, Gojyo. And thank you."

"Hey," I called as he began to move for the door. He paused, looking back over his shoulder patiently. I knocked some ash off my cigarette and took a slow pull from it, grasping for something to say. I really don't know what spurred me to call out to begin with, seeing as I didn't really have anything to say. Finally, with a wry smile, I said, "I never got your name."

Bleeding Guy smiled shyly and said, "It's-"

The door knocked, interupting him and causing me to go for it automatically. "Hold that for a second," I said as I swung the door open.


End file.
